


Castles Out of Snow

by archertethras



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-12 16:21:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7941133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archertethras/pseuds/archertethras
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>((Sorry guys, officially leaving this as abandoned!)) A semi-canon divergent story featuring lots of femslash, a dollop of "here, Bioware, I fixed it for you", and a few OCs for flavor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Judging by the chains that dug into Alice's wrists, the assassination had not gone according to plan.

At least this was probably better than where she had just been.

Alice blinked her eyes open and attempted to shrug off the memory of what must have been a nightmare. If the cold, damp floor around her and the presence of numerous guards were any indication, she had managed to land herself in jail. Whoever had put her here had gone to the trouble of propping her up in a sitting position, legs folded beneath her. Alice was uncertain of the reasoning behind it; it might have been meant as a thoughtful gesture for when she awoke, but she suspected it was more likely intended to limit the blood flow in her legs. Escape would be more difficult in that case, but it did tell her that wherever this was, it was probably not where her captors intended for her to end up. She could work with that.

Intense pain interrupted her thoughts as it shot through her hand and up her arm, drawing a slight hiss from her before she could stop herself. None of the guards seemed to notice, so she spared a glance down at her hand, turning her palm up to face her. It was difficult to make out anything in the dim lighting, but if she twisted it to catch some of the glow from the torches along the wall she could make out a clean scar, almost a crescent in shape, as though left by a blade with a curved edge. As she studied it the pain surged again, stronger this time, and green sparks flew from the scar into the air. Panic overcame her sensibility and she cried out, struggling against her bindings. All the guards drew their weapons in tandem, regarding her with nervous expressions.

"Alright now, don't move," one of them cautioned, sweat beading his pale forehead. "You move again, Beth here runs and gets help. We was told to let ’em know when you was up for good."

A girl, presumably Beth, nodded quickly. "We were. And I will."

Alice took a moment to compose herself and weigh her options, attempting to push the searing, inexplicable scar from her mind. She was already outnumbered, that much was clear from just a brief glance. Whoever "help" was, they couldn't exactly make things much worse, and they might be able to shed some much needed light on what exactly had happened to her. Making a run for it was out of the question until she knew more about what the hell had caused this scar, and it sounded like unless she wanted to play dead for a while, she didn't have much of a choice. Not wanting to lose her cool more than she already had, she took a deep breath and forced a smug expression onto her face.

"What, can't take me on your own?" she taunted, mind made up. "Go on, then. _Fetch_."

Beth needed no further instruction, bolting from the room as though she had been looking for the first opportunity to do so. Alice couldn’t blame her. Maker knew she would be wary of anyone with green light emanating from their hand, too, mage or no. With any luck it would take Beth some time to locate whoever would be coming, and Alice could attempt to work out what had happened.

The last thing she could remember was leaving her camp for the Conclave. She had planned to arrive early, make her way to the Divine’s quarters, and make a run for it before anyone realized what had happened. It would be messy, but considering the high security detail of the Divine it would likely be the only real shot she would get - several of the guards, including both the Left and Right Hands, were supposedly going to arrive later in the day instead of with the Divine herself. Alice wasn’t enough of a fool to miss an opportunity so obvious, even if it did mean abandoning the subtlety her job usually entailed. Besides, she always carried a number of invisibility bombs on her -  really just glorified smoke grenades, enchanted to render whoever threw them impossible to see - and she had brought enough in preparation for the Conclave that the other guests and remaining guards would be unlikely to cause much of a problem. She hadn’t, after all, risen from the obscurity of the Halamshiral slums to a well-ranked member of the House of Repose without some level of skill and ingenuity.

She could remember all the planning well enough, but almost nothing after leaving camp. It didn’t seem possible. Unless she had been poisoned, or perhaps had her mind altered by a mage, she could think of nothing that would have erased her memory in so neat a fashion. The only memory she had managed to retain was the nightmare that must have awoken her in the first place - chevaliers chasing her, and a woman who reached out.

Footsteps sounded from outside the door.

Another wave of pain coursed through her, as if even her mark was anticipating the worst, and tears formed at the edges of her eyes. She needed to get out of here and find someone to help her - lost memory or not, she was sure rotting away in a jail cell had not become part of her plan.

The sound of someone throwing the door open interrupted her thoughts and a woman's intimidating figure appeared in the door frame, radiating anger. A slighter figure slipped in behind the first, sticking to the shadows, and Alice could just make out poor Beth scurrying after the other two only to have the door slam shut in her face. Apparently her captors did not have time to care about lowly prison guards.

“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now,” the woman demanded, stepping just close enough for Alice to make out the sharp angles of her face. “The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you.”

Alice said nothing, unsure how much her captors already knew and unwilling to give herself away on the off chance it was less than she suspected. The Conclave's destruction had, without a doubt, not been her work; even if it meant the Divine was dead, it was sloppy and unprofessional. No job was worth that many innocents getting caught in the crossfire. If the destruction had been caused by someone else, there was a chance it was still possible for her to shift blame away from herself, find a healer, and keep the gold from the job. She just needed to learn more of what happened before attempting to bluff her way out.  
The woman only waited for a moment before growing impatient with the silence, yanking up Alice’s scarred hand and forcing another yell from her.

“Explain this.”

“Actually, I was hoping you could.”

“Do you mean to say you can’t?”

The slighter figure, another woman, stepped forward from the shadows near the door to approach Alice. A hood covered most of her face, but from what Alice could make out, her expression was thoughtful - odds were this one would be easier to appeal to than the woman bellowing questions at her.

“I don’t know what that is!” Alice said. “Or how it got there.”

“You’re lying!” the woman snarled, grabbing Alice roughly by the shoulders. The motion aggravated her hand again and a cold sweat broke out across her forehead. The pain was more consistent now, and duller as a result, but the rest of her body had begun to react to the feeling; both headache and nausea clamored for her attention. A healer really would be lovely.

The hooded woman seemed to notice Alice's discomfort and pushed the other back. “We need her, Cassandra,” she scolded, voice heavy with an Orlesian accent not unlike Alice’s own. Alice bit down on her tongue to keep from cursing aloud. That name was one she was all too familiar with, and it did not bode well for her that this was the woman interrogating her as a suspect in the murder of not only the Divine but countless innocents as well. And if the Right Hand was the one shoving at her, the other woman must be the Left to treat her as an equal. If these were the women who had caught her, she could see no hope of escaping - they were not exactly rumored to be fools. She watched as Cassandra backed away with marked reluctance, keeping her eyes trained on Alice as she did. She prayed she had maintained a neutral expression through the last few seconds.

“Please,” Alice said, dropping her attitude for a moment in favor of a direct appeal to the woman, likely the Left Hand, who’d moved on her behalf. “I had nothing to do with what happened at the Conclave. You have to let me go!”

“We do not have to do any such thing,” Cassandra barked at her. The other woman held up a hand to silence her.

“Do you remember what happened?” she asked, her voice more cutting than Alice had been anticipating. “How this began?”

Alice was silent a long moment. There would be no charming her way past either of these women and no way to evade their questions; it seemed her only real option was to cooperate as best she could. She thought back again, scrambling to think of anything that wouldn’t somehow implicate her and coming up with nothing beyond the nightmare she'd woken from in the cell.

"No."

Cassandra shook her head and stepped forward, placing a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift.”

Leliana continued to study Alice a moment longer, searching her face for any hint of dishonesty, before nodding and turning to leave. After she was gone Cassandra crouched down to undo the chains around Alice's ankles and wrists.

“What did happen?” Alice asked, curiosity beating out her common sense.

Cassandra paused. “It will be easier to show you.”

She helped Alice to her feet and led her up a flight of stairs, gesturing to two of the guards to follow them.  When they made it outside, Alice threw a hand up on instinct, taking a long moment to adjust to the sudden barrage of light, both from the sky and from the reflection in the snow. When she uncovered her eyes again, she couldn't quite believe them.

The sky looked as though it was fabric torn in two, with the same green light as was in her hand spilling like stuffing from the split seams. The light flickered and shifted like a storm, as though this giant tear in the sky were merely a large cloud that might bring rain later in the day. The entire thing just seem to  _hiss_ , somehow. Alice could feel Cassandra watching her, but she was frozen with horror and found she did not care. In fact, she was angry. Mark or her hand or not, it was foolish to think she could have done this. She knew how to make invisibility bombs, an assortment of poisons, a rudimentary trap or two. She couldn't imagine how to make something like this.

“We call it the Breach. It’s a massive rift in the veil that grows larger with each passing hour. It’s not the only such rift, just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave,” Cassandra explained.

Alice didn't bother to conceal her snark. “Sounds like a hell of an explosion."

The comment earned her a scowl and a disapproving glare. “Unless we act, the Breach may grow until it swallows the world.”

“An optimist, I take it?”

“A realist.”

Another shock of pain hit her, just as agonizing as the last, but sharper and deeper this time. She cried out again, feeling her knees give way. Dizziness overcame her, but she managed to make out a worried expression on Cassandra’s face through her swimming vision. In a more lucid state she would have taken advantage of her concern.

“Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads. And it is killing you,” Cassandra said. “It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn’t much time.”

The pain subsided, leaving a dull ache behind. Alice wrapped her hand around her other wrist and squeezed hard to test her strength. The mark didn’t seem to cause her any weakness - if anything, the pain actually eased up with pressure against it. She kept her grip firm. “So if I do what you want, will I live through it?”

“We have no way of knowing.” Cassandra admitted, pulling her to her feet.

As they walked, Alice glanced around. She knew where she was now; a small village called Haven. She had staked it out as a potential place to spend the nights leading up to the assassination, but had deemed it too risky. It appeared she had been right about that much at least; people openly glared at her as she passed. A few brave souls not cowed by Cassandra spat.

“They have decided your guilt,” Cassandra said. “They need it. The people of Haven-”

"Happy to help," Alice deadpanned. Cassandra made a noise of disapproval at the interruption but, thankfully, dropped the subject.

Alice considered asking where she was being taken but figured there was likely a limit to how forthcoming the Right Hand of the Divine would be with a prisoner. She hurried instead to keep up with Cassandra, who led the way with the guards trailing in the very back to ensure Alice could not escape while Cassandra's back was turned. Not that she could get very far in this state, she thought, pressing against her mark in frustration. If only she had bandages, she might put enough pressure on it to function normally, but even if she managed to lose Cassandra in the mountains and keep her strange glowing mark under control, she had no idea how to navigate the area. As if to spite her, the pain returned full force, and she lost her footing in the snow. A guard's hand darted out and kept her from sliding further. Alice cursed aloud.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, gritting her teeth. “I’ll be fine.”

The guard nodded; if he didn’t believe her he at least had the decency to keep it to himself. They began walking again. As they traveled, Cassandra slowed her pace enough to at least speak to Alice and explain more of what had happened at the Conclave. Something told Alice that Cassandra did not truly believe she had planned the explosion, though she never explicitly said as much. Other people had claimed to see a woman reach out to Alice from the sound of it, which rattled her nerves. She had assumed her nightmare had been nothing more than a hallucination, brought about by the force with which she must have hit her head when she blacked out.

According to Cassandra, no one had any idea what had caused the explosion at the Conclave and Alice supposed she could understand why, between her survival and the mark on her hand, she had been the prime suspect. Cassandra seemed much less tense than she had when Alice first woke and while she knew better than to underestimate the woman, if she played her cards right she might be able to slip away. She would need to lay low in another country for a while, maybe somewhere in the Free Marches, or in the lower reaches of Orlais. Both of the guards carried daggers on them, she noted. If she were able to pilfer a pair of those her chances of survival would be much, much better.

Her plotting was interrupted when the bridge they were crossing gave way beneath them. Alice hit the ground hard; her arm was surely going to be covered with bruises. One of the guards gave a yelp as stones fell on top of him, the other guard rushing to pry them off. Alice glanced behind her, taking in the sight of Cassandra about to face off with several demons. The guards would be no help, and if Cassandra fell to those demons, it was certain Alice would be next. She grabbed the daggers the first guard had dropped, pleased to be reunited with her weapon of choice, and raced to help. They both stood a better chance if they fought together.

Alice had forgotten what outright battle felt like after years of trying to move without detection. There was a thrill to this, blade connecting with someone as an attempt to wear them down instead of kill them quietly, a raucous competition that Alice had not realized she missed. That was a silver lining, at least - if she had managed to hold on to her enchanted bombs and poisons, she might not have rediscovered this. Who knew you could behead a demon that looked like it was made of shadows?

The battle was over too soon. Cassandra turned to her in fury, sword held at the ready.

“Put down your weapons,” she ordered.

“Are you mad at me for saving your life?”

“I did not require your assistance. A few demons are not enough to give me pause.”

“There were at least six!” Alice protested, waving her dagger wildly toward the strange and disgusting substance the demons had left behind when they were slain. “Was I supposed to just pull up a seat and watch the show?”

Cassandra growled. “Put down your weapons, _now_.”

“I need these. Your guards were useless. I’m not entrusting them with my life!”

“As I am not entrusting you with mine.”

They stared each other down for a moment before Alice realized this woman had at least fifteen more years worth of experience in being bullheaded. She threw the daggers to the ground. She had to cooperate. She didn’t have to act pleased with it.

Cassandra made a noise of complaint. “You might try to behave less like a child,” she said, picking them up with as much irritation as Alice had channeled to drop them. After the daggers were safely out of Alice’s reach, Cassandra headed over to the guards.

The first guard was an obvious loss, now that he had been unearthed from the rubble. His head was bent at an angle that made even Alice, experienced as she was with death, feel ill. The other guard appeared to be holding back tears. Cassandra gestured for him to stand, placing her hand on his shoulder to reassure him.

“We cannot rest here,” she said.

The man nodded slowly, still staring down at his friend. Alice’s fingers itched for the daggers back, sensing that this guard would not be much help in the battles to come. With any luck, Cassandra would have no choice but to rely on Alice, which would make her escape easier later. She didn’t want to kill Cassandra - the woman had been much kinder than Alice would have expected from her demeanor in the jail cell - but she would if she didn’t have a choice.

 

What Alice had forgotten to factor in was the sheer stubbornness of the woman. They faced several enemies on the road, and each time Cassandra had lunged forward into battle without a second thought. The guard was a little more hesitant, but still managed to hold his own, leaving Alice to try and avoid the combat altogether. She did so without complaint the first few times, but by their fourth encounter with demons she had become bored enough to allow her more reckless instincts to take over. As Cassandra whittled down a shade and the guard contended with several wisps, Alice rapidly surveyed the field. There was another shade making its way toward Cassandra, but the guard was clearly struggling. The wisps shifted constantly between a solid state and something more incorporeal and all his hits were a half second too slow to catch them when they were tangible. All he had managed to accomplish was drenching himself in Fade residue. Hatching a plan, Alice scooped up snow and compressed it between her hands, taking aim at the shade. As soon as she saw the snowball connect with her target and its head swivel in her direction, she spun on her heel and ran toward the wisps, hoping to catch one as its physical form wavered.

Luck was on her side; she passed through the wisp easily - although she was now coated in green muck - and garnered the attention of it and another wisp as well. She turned around to lead the demons away from the guard to the much more capable Cassandra, who had noticed her shenanigans and was looking on in obvious irritation.

“Would you maybe want to help?” Alice called out. Despite her less-than-thrilled expression, Cassandra snapped into fighting stance without question, raising her sword and tilting it up at an angle. Alice ran directly toward the blade, unable to keep from cursing at the sight of it at eye level, and slid underneath at the last second, treated to a prime view of all three demons slicing themselves neatly along the edge. She grinned up at Cassandra.

“Maybe you don’t trust me with your life,” she said, “but it might be worth it to trust me with _his_.”

Cassandra glanced from Alice to the guard, who was attempting to bat the demons away as though they were fruit flies. She hurried over to him and helped take out the remaining enemies before acknowledging Alice's request.

“Nice try,” she said dryly.

Alice quite agreed.

 

The rest of their trek was more enjoyable now that Alice was at least allowed to run wild across the battlefield. It was clear that Cassandra was in no hurry to allow any sort of weaponry into Alice’s hands, but she said nothing to suggest that she disapproved of her tactics. Years had passed since Alice had last fought in a group, but she couldn’t deny the appeal - she had spent so long dreaming up all her schemes alone that she’d forgotten just how much fun battle could be when one wasn’t always trying to remain undiscovered. Despite the stickiness that remained from her encounter with the wisps, the speed of real battle felt freeing, and she found it suited her well.

The last time she had been able to be bold in her fighting style was well before the House of Repose had offered her the first of many contracts, shortly after she had hit her nineteenth year, and she was nearly twenty three now. Four years she had spent in shadows.

It had worked out well enough, she acknowledged, save for two missions - the one that had prevented her from being in Halamshiral as her family burned alongside the slums, and the one that had landed her on this blighted, snow-coated staircase that seemingly had no end.

Maker, the Divine. She just _had_ to volunteer for the world's most foolish contract.

“Are we there yet?” she called back to Cassandra and the remaining guard, who had introduced himself as Lloyd. She flexed her scarred hand in an absent-minded effort to soothe it. “Wherever ‘there’ is, anyway.”

“Do you not hear the fighting ahead?” Cassandra asked, sounding significantly more urgent than Alice felt. “We are near.”

“Oh, good. I could do for a rest. And a bath. And a hot meal. Will there be wine there, do you think?”

“ _Move_.”

Alice fell silent, internally cursing the soles of her shoes for slipping on the icy steps. She could see the top of the staircase ahead, and it was, in fact, obvious that there was a battle taking place somewhere beyond that point. She could make out a strange zinging noise - the mark of storm energy - and the occasional joyful shout.

The staircase finally gave way to the top of a bridge, making it possible for their small group to see the source of the noise. Demons swarmed the area, so it was difficult to make out the individual people fighting them, but whoever was lost in the fray seemed to be holding their own; demons were falling everywhere Alice looked.

“We must help them!” Cassandra said, making the drop from the bridge to the ground they were fighting on. Lloyd placed a hand on Alice’s back to urge her forward, and slyly slipped one of his daggers into her hand.

"You'll never survive a group that big without," he explained. She nodded, silently taking back every negative thing she had ever thought about Lloyd, and jumped.

Once in the middle of the battle, she was able to catch glimpses of their allies. Most were just guards, but one of them appeared to be an elven mage, presumably the source of the storm noises. He was tall for an elf and completely bald, though he didn't look particularly old. The only other fighter who was notable in any way was a dwarf in overly gaudy clothes, wielding a crossbow that Alice desperately wanted to examine up close.

Her distraction over the crossbow allowed one of the shades to push her back, jostling her marked arm. She gritted her teeth and lunged for the creature, savoring the way her palm numbed at the pressure with which she drove the dagger into its body. Demon flesh disintegrated into a pile of muck at her feet and she spun, hoping for more battle, only to see that magnificent crossbow take out two shades in one shot, arrow barely missing Alice’s face in the process. Startled, she opened her mouth to threaten the dwarf, but wasn’t given time to speak.

“Quickly!” the elf yelled, yanking on her arm with no thought given to the quick jolt of pain that shocked through it all the way to her shoulder, nor the dagger she dropped. “Before more come through!”

As her hand raised to meet the rift, she felt a sudden, painful surge through her entire body and desperately tried to pull her hand back.

“Let me go!”

“Try to focus,” the man shouted over the din, “on closing the rift!”

Alice struggled for a moment more, the sheer agony of the gesture making it hard to draw a full breath, and then gave in and did as commanded. Brows furrowed in concentration and pain, she closed her eyes and pictured the rift closing before her. Throbbing pain filled her head and she clenched and unclenched her free hand as though some of the relief could be shared with the other. The longer she held this position, the worse the sensations became, as though she were consuming all the energy of the rift through her palm. Black dots began to swarm her vision until they completely overtook it and the sounds around her grew faint. She stumbled backward, her body leaden and hand kept steady only by the man at her side, and felt the meager contents of her stomach rising up the back of her throat.

Then all at once, nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

There was no pain, no sensation at all, for a brief but blissful moment, and then a hand on her shoulder and the sound of a woman's stern voice.

Alice opened her eyes to the sight of Cassandra and the gaudy dwarf looming over her. The elf stood a little farther back, regarding her as though she were an object to be studied. He didn't appear to be overly concerned with her well-being.

Dazed, she propped herself up on her elbows. The battle field had been cleared out aside from her and the three surrounding her.

"They have moved on toward the forward camp," Cassandra explained, catching onto Alice's thoughts. "I sent Lloyd ahead with the others. Are you alright?"

The sudden show of concern was not lost on Alice. Even in her hazy state of mind she realized appearing infirm would be helpful later, when the time was right to slip out of sights. Right now, however, she was more concerned with who the dwarf and the elf were, especially considering the elf had been the cause of her collapse. She elected to start with the dwarf, who inspired significantly less vitriol in her.

"Who are you?" she asked, ignoring Cassandra's question altogether. The woman's brows furrowed but she remained quiet.

"Varric Tethras," the dwarf said, "rogue, storyteller, and occasionally, unwelcome tagalong." He threw a crooked grin at Cassandra, who responded with an irritated noise in the back of her throat. Alice was becoming less intimidated by her each time she opened her mouth - dangerous, she reminded herself as she struggled to her feet. Things would end very poorly for her if she underestimated just how severe this woman could be. She refocused her thoughts on Varric and, more importantly, his crossbow.

"Can I take a look at your crossbow?" she asked, eager for a chance to study a real work of machinery. "I've always been interested in devices like it; I've just never had a chance to examine one up close."

"Sorry, kid, Bianca doesn't like to be touched by anyone but me. She's the picky type."

Alice frowned, half tempted to go retrieve the arrow he had nearly struck her with in the earlier battle and jab him until he gave in to her request. The House of Repose had never allowed weaponry like his; there was no room for noisy, bulky contraptions in professional assassination. All of her many attempts to explain that she could design small devices more suited for stealth if she had something larger to study had been dismissed out of hand.

"My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions," the elf said, saving an unknowing Varric from receiving an arrow to the ass. "I am pleased to see you still live."

"He means 'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept'," Varric clarified.

"Oh? You seem to know a great deal more about it than I do. How am I the prime suspect, again?" Alice asked, directing the last bit toward Cassandra, who was unmoved.

"I don't recall handing you a dagger," she countered.

Alice flushed. "Lloyd gave it to me. I'd have died without it."

"That may be so." Her voice gave away no hint as to whether she was conceding Alice's point or simply saying she should have leapt into a deadly battle regardless. Alice decided she would rather not ask for clarification.

"By the way, will you be returning that to her, Seeker?" Varric asked.

"Return it to her? Why would I? She is a prisoner, same as you."

"And somehow I'm armed and she's not. Let the kid have something to defend herself with. One dagger won't make a difference against the three of us," he said. "Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker? Your soldiers aren't in control anymore. You need capable fighters."

Cassandra made another disgusted noise and shook her head, but thrust the pair of daggers from Lloyd's fallen friend out to Alice all the same. Alice took both of them, trying to hide her shock at Cassandra's willingness to hand her not one, but two weapons. In all likelihood, it meant only that the people standing before her were strong enough that she would have to be an incredible fool to try anything.

 

The battles that followed proved Alice right on that count. Not only did their new companions hold their own, they were so capable Alice struggled to keep up. Varric had wagered her five sovereigns that he would net at least five kills more than she would - "a sovereign per demon, that sound fair?" - and she was cursing herself for accepting. At this rate she would be in debt to a man who quite possibly had more hair on his chest than he did his head. Still, she preferred him to Solas, who spent their journey to the forward camp discussing the rifts and his theories surrounding how they might be connected to her mark. Most of them seemed to revolve around her being an unlikely savior for all of Thedas - a notion that Alice regarded with immense distaste. Cassandra, however, seemed to actually be considering the idea, so Varric landed the title of her new best friend by default.

"So, you're from Orlais," he remarked as the distance between them and the others grew. Cassandra had allowed them to lead. "Got any good party stories?"

"I wasn't invited to many. Elf ears are out of season."

"But surely you've crashed a few!"

Alice thought back to life in the slums. She had run with the thieves guild prior to catching the attention of the House, and it had paid off well enough and kept her and her family fed, but she hadn't been a fool. Elves out on the streets after dark were subjected to brutal abuses by the chevaliers. Many of them were murdered.

Party crashing seemed ill-advised under the circumstances.

She had, however, attended a few parties after becoming an assassin. They were extravagant, dangerous affairs and Alice had sometimes wondered if she was offered them _because_ she was an elf. Most of her superiors were unconcerned with her background as long as she did her job and did it well, but she knew not all of them agreed. If their intention was to allow her to be discovered and killed, however, their plans had backfired. Her closest calls had been at parties, but she always made it back in one piece and always received ample coin for her efforts. She supposed that meant she did have a few stories, but somehow it didn't seem like a good idea to announce her criminal history to the group.

"No," she lied. "No parties."

"Too bad," Varric said. "I was hoping to pick your brain for some courtly intrigue for my next novel, but I'll have to make do with just my imagination."

Alice snorted. "I could always go call upon some old friends in the slums and see who's bedding who, if your imagination is really so poor."

"Would you? I seem to have misplaced my flair for the dramatic."

"Have you checked all that chest hair for it? It may have gotten buried."

Varric gasped theatrically. "And here I thought I was impeccably groomed. All my friends have assured me as much."

"Ah, yes, I'm sure they were enraptured by your… fluffiness."

"You kid, but I've yet to meet anyone who could resist its charm."

She tsked. "I'm more interested in the crossbow."

"Ah, so you prefer the ladies! Bianca's flattered."

"I do," Alice confirmed. "But I tend to be a little… How should I put this? Hands-on."

Varric gave a sharp laugh. "Alright, alright. You've earned a touch," he said, pulling the crossbow out in front of him. "But Bianca gets to decide where and how hard."

Her response was cut short by Cassandra's shout and the pair of them spun to see a single shade approaching from behind. Alice fumbled for her daggers, caught off-guard, but Varric was quicker with his crossbow already in hand. An arrow ripped clean through the demon's head and brought his lead on their bet up to three.

"C'mon, Dandelion," he said in mock despair, "you're making this too easy on me."

 

They reached the forward camp soon enough, Cassandra resuming the lead after their brief encounter with the shade. Alice and Varric continued to talk along the way, with him allowing her an incredibly brief examination of Bianca, during which she could discern nothing about how the device actually worked, and throwing out suggestions for possible alibis all while ignoring Cassandra's disinterested "I can hear you, dwarf."

A small rift glittered a few feet from the entrance to the camp, blocking their path. Wisps floated lazy circles around the area and if it weren't for the intense nausea settling in Alice's gut and the crackling noises coming from the rift she would have said the scene looked almost peaceful. As it was, she was just trying to remain standing.

Solas signaled the group to stop before the wisps noticed them.

"I would like to see if it is possible to seal rifts while the spirits who crossed through them remain in our world. If that is the case, it would be interesting to see the effect that has on them, and if we could use it as a tactic in future battles."

"Then I will draw their attention," Cassandra said, "and Varric can engage them from a distance. Stay with her and make sure she does not fall."

Cassandra and Varric headed closer to the rift, Cassandra giving a shout as she began to battle the wisps. Solas stuck close to Alice. She lifted her hand to the tear in the sky, a tingle running from her palm up into her shoulder, and concentrated on sapping the power from the rift into her mark. Solas cast a barrier over the two of them and kept a watchful eye over the battlefield as Alice struggled to speed up the process. Cassandra was tearing through the wisps too fast for Alice to keep up. Only three wisps remained, and the rift was still far from being closed.

One of the wisps had realized what Alice was doing and began to head toward her, spewing spirit energy until the barrier faltered. Solas cast another, unperturbed. Alice, however, wasn't as composed; her head had already been swimming from the effort she was expending and was worsened by the wisp's assault.

Both the other demons fell in a single blow from Cassandra, who turned to take out the last. Solas called out to her.

"Not yet, Seeker. At least one must still live when the rift is sealed."

The barrier slipped away from them again, and Solas brought it back up once more. Sweat dripped down Alice's forehead and her stomach churned despite having been emptied the last time she had done this. Her hand twitched and bile crept up her throat.

"I can't," she choked out, knees buckling. Solas grabbed her wrist to prevent the connection to the rift from being severed.

"You can," he insisted.

The wisp continued to chip away at the barrier until it formed a hole, and spirit energy hit Alice before the weak spot could be repaired. The sensation was too much; Alice bent over, hand still facing the rift - thanks to Solas - and retched into the snow. A growl sounded from Cassandra, and Alice looked up just in time to see her drive her sword straight through the demon. Relief flooded her and the rift fell in on itself mere moments later.

Solas helped her up, a disapproving frown on his face as he turned to Cassandra. "I had hoped to learn how the demons fare in relation to the rifts."

Varric shook his head. "I'm sure we'll have plenty of opportunities for that, Chuckles. Right now let's just try not to kill the only person we have who can do anything about this mess."

Alice stood, still shaky. The camp remained closed to them.

"The rift is gone," Cassandra called out. "Open the gate!"

"Right away, Lady Cassandra," came the reply.

Solas glanced back at Alice, his apparent frustration from before gone. "We are clear for the moment," he said. "Well done."

The forward camp contained fewer people than Alice would have assumed, but it was busy nonetheless and she found it rather impressive how quickly Cassandra was able to locate Leliana. She was standing next to a dark-haired woman in leather armor and a man dressed in Chantry attire, neither of whom looked pleased with their conversation. Leliana's face lit up when she saw their group approaching.

"You made it," she said. "Chancellor Roderick, this is-"

"I know who she is," the man interrupted. "As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution."

Varric leaned close to Alice and whispered, "I don't think he likes you, Dandelion."

"How do you know he's not talking about you?" Alice retorted.

Cassandra ignored both of them. "Order me? You are a glorified clerk. A bureaucrat!"

"And you are a thug! But a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry."

"We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor," Leliana cut in, "as you well know."

"Justinia is dead! We must elect a replacement and obey _her_ orders on the matter."

The second woman shook her head. "We need to focus on the issue at hand."

Alice nudged Varric. "At hand," she whispered, stifling a giggle.

He grimaced. "That's the worst joke I've ever heard. Do me a favor and never become a writer."

"Five sovereigns and you've got a deal."

The Chancellor had not ceased his arguing, focusing entirely on Cassandra while the other two women had begun to confer with one another. "You won't survive long enough to reach the temple," he insisted. "Even with all your soldiers. Call for the retreat, Seeker."

"She can close the rifts," she said, gesturing to Alice. "This may be our only chance."

"Oh, so now she has control over the rifts? That doesn't seem suspicious to you?"

Cassandra ignored him, looking instead to the women. "We must get to the temple. It's the quickest route."

"But not the safest," Leliana said. "Our forces can charge as a distraction while you go through the mountains."

"We have a better chance if we split up," the woman agreed.

Cassandra looked as though she was about to argue when the Breach began to rumble and expand. Pain tore through Alice's body without warning, her consciousness threatening to fade again, but Cassandra reached out a hand to keep her standing and she managed to fight off the sensation, focusing instead on the sparks that flew from her hand while it spasmed in time with the Breach's growth. When the episode ended, she glanced up to see Chancellor Roderick staring at her with untrusting eyes. Irritation flooded through her.

"I don't care what we do," she hissed, "but at this rate I won't last through you making the decision. I suggest you find something you can all agree on."

"An impossible feat," said the woman, a sarcastic smile playing at the edge of her lips. "But if we time an attack to allow you to pass through the mountains and bypass the demons undetected, we have a good shot at getting you to the Breach. It's hard to argue that any other plan has comparable odds."

Cassandra's jaw clenched. "It is too risky, Lady Trevelyan. We lost contact with an entire squad on that path."

"And from the sound of it, we risk losing much more if we lose your prisoner. Cassandra, we do not have time to waste. We need to bring her to the Breach and we need to do it quickly. We have enough forces left to keep notice from you, and you may have a chance to repair what damage has been done already."

Cassandra nodded, though reluctance still colored her features. She urged Alice, Solas, and Varric toward the mountain path, calling out orders to the people around them as they walked, while the lady and Leliana began to lead soldiers toward the fighting in the valley. With luck, this path would provide Alice with a chance to escape.

 

The mountain path proved to be little more than demon-infested caves. Alice found it difficult to slip away when her presence was always necessary in the battles, and the twists and turns ensured that while she might be able to break free of the group without trouble, she would become lost just as easily. At this point she was beginning to resign herself to her fate as a prisoner. At least if they thought she could save the world they would probably be interested in patching her up afterward.

Of course, it was possible no one would know how.

Alice refused to consider the idea, focusing instead on the difficult task of maneuvering around shades and wisps in tight spaces. They would be carrying half their body weight in wisp residue by the time any of them saw sunlight again.

Strangely, Varric seemed the most uncomfortable with their current task, an uncharacteristic silence falling over him. Alice attempted to joke with him as they had in their travels together so far, but all her attempts were met with little more than grumbles so low she couldn't make out what he was saying. Cobwebs covered every corner they passed in what looked to be ruins. As they walked, something shining caught Alice's attention.

"Cassandra," she called, gesturing toward the unidentified object.

"We have no time for looting."

"It will only take a second," Alice insisted, wandering into the small room it was located in. Closer inspection revealed it to be a shield, rather elaborate in its decoration, with a griffin wing design. Underneath it sat more weaponry than Alice had seen in some of the stalls back home. She foraged, hoping for daggers, and found success in a pair with intricately carved handles. Her current daggers were dumped back into the pile without ceremony. Cassandra cleared her throat.

"The soldiers in the valley are counting on a swift arrival."

Varric's voice sounded from another corner of the room. "Seeker, are you aware there's more gold here than I received for my last book?"

"Arrows," Alice added, spinning one between her fingers as she inspected it. "Serrated, and rusted too. If you wanted to kill someone slowly and painfully, these would do well."

"Creative, Dandelion. Find anything a little more usable?"

"Not for you."

Varric wandered over to parse through the weapons himself, slipping five sovereigns into Alice's hand. "I hear prisoners don't earn much in the way of a living," he explained, "so I figured you might need some help repaying your debt to me."

Alice threw the coins back at him. "Don't give me your pity gold. The bet's not won yet."

"Dandelion, you don't stand a chance."

Cassandra stormed over, yanking Varric back by the shoulder with such force that he nearly toppled over. "We do not have time to waste on frivolity."

"Maker's breath, Seeker. Noted."

Alice stood, casting a final glance around the room. "I think we've found everything of use anyway. Here," she said, handing the griffon shield to Cassandra. "This is better than what you have."

Cassandra stared at her with indignation for a few moments before accepting the gift. "We must keep moving," she reminded them again.

"Yes, Seeker," Varric said. "We know."

 

Varric livened up some after their fortunate discovery, though he remained quieter than usual. He explained he bore caves and ruins no love and left the matter at that.

Solas, by contrast, couldn't seem to stop talking. He had begun to take samples from the demons, claiming they should be studied, and was talking at great length about how best to avoid them when traveling in the Fade. Being the only mage in the party didn't seem to dampen his enthusiasm for explaining proper Fade etiquette to the rest of them. According to him, anything too enjoyable seemed to be a burning beacon toward which demons couldn't help but travel.

Alice tuned him out, revisiting the possibility of escape. No one was paying her much mind anymore - the demons did not seem to be interested in this part of the ruins, and the others were all sufficiently distracted. Cassandra was determined to reach the fighting, Varric was focused on just getting the hell out of the cave, and Solas was Solas. If there were ever a time to make a break for it, it would be now. Still, the possibility that she might not live long enough to make it very far nagged at her. Running away was also not exactly a hallmark of the innocent; if she left now, she may very well spend the rest of her life running. Even the House of Repose could only protect her from so much. A temporary safe harbor with them would be helpful, but it would not last.

"Seeker, you sure you didn't take a wrong turn somewhere?" Varric griped. "I was hoping to see daylight before I grew old."

"We are headed in the right direction, I assure you," Cassandra said, sending him an irritable look.

"Good. Any longer and I'll start developing Stone sense."

Screeching sounded from above them, and the group looked to the ceiling of the cave in unison. A nightmarish demon rested almost directly over their heads, hanging upside-down by talons sharp enough to cling to the stone. Its body was green and gnarled, and when it noticed them watching, it stretched its mouth wide enough to reveal teeth sharper than the any of the weapons they carried and screamed once more.

"Great!" Varric said, throwing his hands in the air. "Just when I was thinking this trip wasn't horrifying enough for my taste."

Only a split second after the words had left his mouth, the demon plummeted onto the floor in front of them. Cassandra, shield already poised in front of her, lunged toward it and slammed it back against a wall where it landed with a scream. She kept the shield pressed hard against it, pinning it in place. Varric's arrows flew in quick succession toward the creature, but its skin was thick enough that none of them managed to pierce the hide. Alice ran at it from the side, clambering up its rough body. Claws scraped against her side and almost succeeded in prying her off when she felt the demon's body begin to spasm as Solas launched a series of lightning bolts at it. She used the distraction to her advantage, thrusting her dagger into its neck with all her strength behind it, trying to ignore the way the skin resisted at first and then gave way all at once. A sharp twist of the wrist elicited a cry from the beast, and after a final shudder it fell still.

Solas examined the demon as Cassandra helped Alice down. Once on the ground, she could see the thing would have stood over a foot and a half taller than her at its full height.

"'No time for frivolity,'" Alice scoffed. "We would all be dead if I hadn't found these daggers. The ones you give your guards are dull."

Cassandra ignored her, turning instead to address Solas. "What was that thing?"

"A lesser terror," he said without looking up from digging the blade of his staff into the demon's hide. "They are small fear demons, attracted to the scent of panic. It is likely this one was lured here by one of us," he added in a nonchalant tone, separating a chunk of flesh from the terror's body with a loud squelching noise and tucking it away in his knapsack.

Alice and Cassandra both turned to look at Varric, who stood a ways apart from them with a sheepish look on his face.

"Any chance we could get a move on, Seeker?"

 

Sunlight greeted them when they made it out of the ruins, a harsh but welcome reprieve from the darkness Solas had only barely managed to keep at bay in the cave. Less welcome was the sight of soldiers' bodies, contorted in strange angles and left to bleed out in the snow. Cassandra and Solas checked them all for signs of life, but without any luck.

"This cannot have been all of them," Cassandra muttered, low enough it might have been meant only for herself.

"It is possible some escaped," Solas said, surveying their surroundings. He gestured to a small path, partially obscured by trees. "The valley is in that direction, is it not? I would suggest we head toward it, and perhaps we will discover the rest of the patrol on our way."

With a half-hearted nod from Cassandra, the group set off again.

 

They covered a fair amount of ground before encountering the rest of the missing squad, some of whom were - by some small miracle - still alive and fighting. A rift hung above their heads and demon corpses littered the ground at their feet. Lesser terrors and shades swarmed the area. The three remaining soldiers had held their own, but their movements had grown clumsy and the demons were beginning to gain the advantage. The group raced toward them and Alice tried not to think about closing the rift and the way the other two had made her ill. She had not completely lost strength at the last, so it was possible this was something that would get easier with practice.

As they drew near, the soldiers took notice of their presence and began fighting with renewed enthusiasm. Cassandra targeted one of the lesser terrors, flanking it to drive her sword deep into its side. It sank to the ground and Cassandra tugged on her sword until it slid free from the demon's body with the same sucking noise as the one in the caves. When it was loose once again she swung it full force against the terror's neck, severing the head in one fluid motion. She took a half second to survey the field and was onto the next.

Solas, meanwhile, had engaged three wisps' attention, raining lightning down on top of them. One was trapped in a cage of static while the other two closed in on Solas. He cast a barrier around himself, paying no mind to the pair right on top of him, and increased the strength of the cage he had made, the demon inside emitting a low, mournful noise Alice had not realized the wisps were capable of making. All at once, the wisp seemed to shiver, and then it exploded, green residue flying clear across the battlefield. Some of it landed on Alice, though she ignored it - it was just another layer at this point. Solas was now holding his staff above his head and Alice watched as it began to radiate storm energy, glowing and setting off sparks not dissimilar to her mark, and he swept the blade through the remaining wisps, causing the same shivering explosion as the other had died from.

Four shades had accosted Varric, their interest caught when he started sending multiple arrows throughout the field at once. He tossed a flask into the fray and rushed backward as it exploded, both the glass and the substance within tearing through the group of shades. While they were still stunned, he readied several arrows and took out all four shades with shots straight through the head. Then he turned his attention back to helping the guards, casual as could be, like he had done nothing more than brush some lint from his jacket.

It seemed no one saw Alice standing on the edges of the fighting, watching them all. An overwhelming urge to leave while Cassandra was otherwise engaged swept through her, but the mark on her hand throbbed and she turned her focus to the rift. More demons were starting to pour through, and as capable as the soldiers and her companions were, there was only so much they could handle. All thoughts of escape faded from her mind once more, and she stretched her hand up toward the rift, feeling a now-familiar pain seized her arm and course through her. Panic gnawed at her as she realized if she fell this time there would be no one close enough to catch her or ensure that her mark stayed trained on the rift. She refocused, now aware how important it was that she succeed. She felt the pain recede some and took it as a good sign.

The rift began to contort, swelling up in some places and turning in on itself in others. No further demons came through, but for all Alice's efforts no true progress was being made. She held the stance as the fighting continued around her, lucky enough to not become a target this time, but nothing happened despite her patience. Fatigue threatened to claim her even as the pain became little more than background noise and she felt her frustration grow into a palpable force. An angry yell ripped from her throat and she stumbled, thrusting her hand forward and yanking it back in one quick movement. The rift responded to the motion, shrinking rapidly and giving a final flare as she managed to collapse it. She was breathing heavily, but this time she had not been sick or lost consciousness, and she had accomplished it on her own. A quiet pride washed through her - she could be good at this.

"You are becoming quite proficient at this," Solas said, echoing her thoughts. She glanced back toward the fighting, and saw that all the enemies had been killed during her attack on the rift - whether from the force of the rift closing or her allies, she was not sure. Without a doubt, she would find out from Solas later. Cassandra sat beside a soldier, examining a leg wound they had sustained.

"I don't think being bad at it is an option," Alice replied, feeling her scar spark once more and the pain fade away entirely.

"Let's hope it works on the big one," Varric said.

Cassandra paused from her task and looked up. "We need to keep moving as soon as this has been tended to. We have taken far too long."

 

The rest of the way was clear and they made good time, even with the injured soldier unable to keep as quick a pace. Alice stood at the edge of a drop-off into the temple and looked down, taking in the destruction and scattered corpses beneath her. Small fires burned throughout the temple. She had known the explosion had to have been massive, but seeing the body count was dizzying. Small sparks flew from her palm as it reacted to the Breach's proximity.

Cassandra's hand pressed against her back, urging her forward. Reluctant, she jumped down into the temple, the others following close behind. Together they crossed what had once been the great hall of the temple, taking care not to step on the many bodies that covered the floor. Alice fought off nausea, this time not from her hand but from the sight of so much death, so much like what the streets back home must have looked like after the empress's fires had claimed them.

They reached the end of the hall and rounded a corner into the next room, where the Breach sat in the sky, intimidating not only in its scope but in its distance as well - it was high enough that Alice was uncertain she would be able to get near it at all, let alone seal it. The air crackled, sharp with static.

"The Breach is a long way up," Varric said, eyes searching for a way to reach it.

Footsteps sounded behind them, and Alice glanced back to see Leliana and Lady Trevelyan heading toward them, followed by a group of soldiers who eyed the Breach with undisguised wariness.

"You’re here!" Leliana exclaimed. "Thank the Maker."

"Leliana, have your men take up positions around the temple," Cassandra said, wasting no time on talk. Leliana nodded and went to relay orders to the soldiers she had brought with her. Lady Trevelyan stared at Alice's hand, which was now sending off such large sparks that Alice had to hold it away from the rest of her body.

"We need to hurry," she said.

Cassandra turned to Alice. "This is your chance to end this," she said. "Are you ready?"

Alice fought to hold her hand still, feeling her entire body begin to shake. She wished she had fled, back when she still had the chance, when there weren't all these people looking at her with such expectant faces. Closing the Breach was an impossible task, she could see that from where she now stood. It was too large and too far and she was only one person. She had closed three rifts that paled in comparison to this and gotten sick after two of them; nothing in her past made her qualified for something like this.

All the same, she had no choice.

Ignoring the large part of her that ached to turn and run, she took a deep breath and steeled herself against the fear she felt. So many eyes were on her, waiting for her answer.

"Yes," she lied, "I'm ready."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who's given kudos, commented, bookmarked, and/or subscribed!!! This is my first fic so having people respond to it is genuinely just so exciting and I truly appreciate it! I plan to update every Friday (and I'll let you know if that changes). Thanks again!! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters today because I am desperate to be done with this prologue and get into the actual story! (Also expect way, way less word-for-word dialogue after these two; sorry there's been so much so far)!

Alice regretted the words the second they left her mouth, but there was no time for her to change her mind. Orders were already being given to the soldiers and Cassandra had begun to check for a way to get closer to the rift. Solas stood at her side, gazing at the Breach.

"This rift was the first," he told her, "and it is the key. Seal it and perhaps we seal the Breach."

"So, no pressure then?"

He gave her a good-natured smile and played along. "None at all."

Despite the kindness he showed her now, there was something about him that Alice didn't trust. If she was being honest it was probably nothing more than the fact that her initial impression of him had been less than ideal, but regardless of the reason, when he spoke Alice felt her skin prickle. 

Cassandra signaled to them that she had found a usable pathway and Alice moved to meet her with more haste than was necessary. Anything to halt the memories of falling while Solas held fast to her wrist. She felt bad; he seemed a nice enough man but it would be a long while before she could speak to him with any semblance of comfort.

A voice began to sound, low and distant, as they walked. Alice glanced at the mark on her hand, wondering if it was causing her to go mad. The words seemed to come from the Breach itself, too faint to understand, but Alice made out "bring forth" and "sacrifice".

"What are we hearing?" Cassandra asked. Unlike Alice, she didn't seem to question whether anyone else was hearing what she was.

"At a guess?" Solas answered. "The person who created the Breach."

"Any way to  _ stop  _ hearing him?" Alice asked.

"Unlikely."

The group wound their way through the exposed and crumbling temple, faces illuminated by jagged red stones jutting from the structure. A barrage of strange sensations, some memories and some not, hit Alice as they passed the stones on one side and the Breach on the other - the warmth of someone moving close to whisper in her ear, followed by the intense heat of fire. Her sister, Lilou, laughing, cut short and followed by a shriek. A hand on her cheek, and then claws…

Varric's voice brought her closer to the present. "You know this stuff is red lyrium, Seeker?"

"I see it, Varric," Cassandra snapped.

"But what's it  _ doing  _ here?"

"Magic could have drawn on lyrium beneath the temple, corrupted it," Solas said.

"Well, it's evil. Whatever you do, don't touch it."

An unfamiliar noise rang in Alice's ears and she paused, trying to make it out. Varric noticed her stop, and she felt his hand on her arm as though from very far away. Everything but the sound itself seemed remote and unimportant.

"Dandelion?"

His voice was unexpectedly sincere, but all Alice could think was that it was drowning out the noise. Without meaning to, she shoved him back and heard herself shush him.

"I'm trying to listen," she hissed.

Varric threw a worried glance to Cassandra, who looked fairly dazed herself.

"Alice," she said in a voice that was almost tentative. "I know it is difficult, but you must try not to listen. The memories, they are…they are poisonous." The words seemed to pain her to say and she reached toward her neck as though to grab a necklace. When her fingers did not find one her breath hitched and she fumbled in desperation. Something about seeing Cassandra so shaken broke the hold of the sensations a little more for Alice. "Poisonous," Cassandra repeated, clenching her jaw. She straightened. "And not real. Do not give in."

Faint music still curled around her ears like a sigh, but she was no closer to discerning the song than she had been a moment ago and the raucous noise of chevalier blades were beginning to drown it out.

"These feelings," she choked out, "are they the lyrium? Or the Breach? Some of them hurt…"

Solas considered her for a moment. "Perhaps, for you, it is both."

Alice took a hesitant step forward, then another, and she found herself walking alongside the group once more. The closer they got to the Breach, the more intense the pain got until she could feel not only her own but her companions' as well. Some of Cassandra's felt almost familiar, while Solas's was so foreign she could not make heads or tails of it. Concern for all of them emanated from Varric, so strong it was overpowering.

They reached a drop into the heart of the temple, where the Breach loomed above them, massive and frenzied. Alice's whole body shook and she had a feeling that if not for the numbing effect the lyrium seemed to have on her, she would be in much more physical pain. As she balanced on the edge of the drop, a voice she didn't recognize cried out for help. Alice leapt down and strode to the Breach, unsure if this voice was a hallucination like the others, or if it was real.

The Breach groaned and expanded once more, sparks flying from the middle of it. Alice held her hand up to shield herself and her pulse began to pound in her ears when she saw that the whole of her hand was eclipsed by the light of the mark. Sweat crept down her neck.

In the center of the Breach, shadows begin to grow and take form. Everyone in the clearing reached for their weapons, but the demons they were expecting never appeared. There were just shapes - a tall, foreboding figure shrouded by shadows and the Divine, suspended in the sky. Alice stared as a shadow version of herself suddenly became visible, taking quick steps back from the scene. Though she knew this must be what had happened, she searched her memory and came up empty-handed. The Divine caught shadow-Alice's eye and began to struggle against her restraints, but all it accomplished was drawing the attention of the other figure, who turned to inspect this version of her. Red flames burned where the figure's eyes should have been and shadow-Alice faltered.

"What's going on here?" she said. Watching herself now, Alice could see that the words had been said with uneasy bravado. She wondered if everyone else in the temple could tell. Or if they had noticed that she had appeared a second later than the other shadows, and had backed away instead of moving forward.

Was it clear to everyone that she had already been in the room?

"Run while you can," Justinia called. "Warn them!"

The low voice from before boomed from the figure. "We have an intruder. Kill the elf," the shadow ordered. "Now!"

The scene shattered as the Breach crept forward yet again, swallowing the shadows back into sky. Cassandra moved forward, grabbing Alice's shoulder and forcing her to meet her eyes.

"You  _ were  _ there," she accused. "Who attacked? And the Divine, is she…? Was this vision true? What are we seeing?"

"I don't remember," Alice said. "I swear."

Solas walked past them, eyes trained on the rift. "Echoes of what happened here," he said, by way of answering Cassandra's question. "The Fade bleeds into this place."

Cassandra regarded Alice with distrust for a moment longer before moving toward Solas. "What can we do?" she asked.

"This rift is not sealed, but it is closed…albeit temporarily. I believe that with the mark, the rift can be opened, and then sealed properly and safely. However, opening the rift will likely attract attention from the other side."

"That means demons," Cassandra called to the surrounding soldiers. "Stand ready!"

Alice headed toward her destination, eager to be done with this and have someone examine her mark. Healing and subsequent escape would be worth the pain of sealing the Breach - provided, of course, that she lived through it. Across the field she saw Leliana and Lady Trevelyan in fighting stance, bows held at the ready. Leliana caught her eye and for a brief moment Alice could have sworn she saw straight through to the heart of her.

She knew. She had seen the parts of the memory that didn't add up, and she knew.

Alice drew a shaky breath and shrugged the paranoia off. Leliana's eyes were already back on the rift and it was possible Alice was wrong. Despite Leliana's powerful title, she was only a person, after all. The Breach was more important right now and it was as close as it was ever going to be. Cassandra and Solas each stood an arm's length from her, prepared to protect her and offer assistance if needed. Alice steadied herself and lifted her hand.

The Breach quivered in response to the connection, the entire sky shifting in restless confusion. There was almost a sense of relief through her arm, as though the Breach was sapping some of the pain from her, and she wondered if it could do that - just bleed the mark's energy from her hand and let her dismiss her role in this as some sort of fever dream.

Without warning, Solas's hand was at her shoulder. Alice jumped, startled, as he leaned toward her. "If you allow it to drain the energy from your mark, you will not remain unharmed. I do not believe the Breach will stop at a hand."

His words made sense. Alice curled her fingers, syphoning the rift's power slowly at first, then taking cautious steps backward the way she might lure a timid housecat into following her. Shrill noises reverberated off the lyrium, or perhaps came from within it, and the rift began to falter. The pain had returned, coursing through Alice's entire body, but she ignored it as the rift shrank before her, almost entirely dissipated.

Right as the rift seemed seconds from vanishing, a stabbing pain shot through Alice's head and she fell, cradling it in her hands before anyone could stop her. The sky was full of sudden violence as the rift surged back to its original size and began to spew forth demons. Among them was the largest creature Alice had ever seen - it towered over the battlefield, with horns that stretched into the sky and more eyes than Alice could ever be comfortable with. Spikes covered the whole of its body, unlike anything she had ever encountered. Some of the merchants back home sold the spikes from quillbacks to write with, but they were cut to be small and paled in comparison to these. The demon surveyed the field and crackled.

The soldiers leapt into action, arrows sailing through the air and footmen rushing the demon. It was difficult to see through the chaos but Alice forced herself to stand, ignoring the pain in her head, and look for Solas. Closing the rift seemed like a good idea, but he had never told the group what effect that had on the demons, and she needed to be sure she wouldn't wind up calling more forward.

She found him taking on shades with several of the troops, the demons so numerous he was forced to wield his staff as a blade more than half the time. Alice made her way over to him, taking as many demons out as she could on the way. Her count must have been nearing Varric's.

When she reached him, she had to yell to be heard over the noise. "When I closed the rift earlier, what happened to the demons?" she asked.

"They were temporarily stunned," he told her, using his staff to push back a shade that had gotten too close. "A similar effect would be welcome now."

"I don't want to attract more demons."

"I believe you have already captured the attention of all who were near enough to sense the disruption," he said, giving a harsh laugh.

One of the shades attacking them made a sudden lunge toward Solas and Alice thrust a dagger straight through it before it could do any damage. She gave him a nod and let the crowd swallow her up again.

It was more challenging to return to where she had stood before than she had expected, the demons growing more concentrated the closer she got to her former position. By the time that she had managed to get underneath the rift, she was being followed by a group of roughly ten demons, far too many for her to take out on her own. Seeing little choice, however, she turned to face them, counting on her swift feet to keep her alive. Before she could take out even one, arrows began to tear through the demons, so rapid that Alice broke away from the fighting just to see who was coming to her defense.

Leliana stood behind her, her perch on the temples walls abandoned. She killed the last few demons that stood between her and Alice and hurried over, fussing with a small bag at her waist. When she was at Alice's side, she slipped a handful of invisibility bombs into Alice's hand and leaned toward her.

"If you plan to try anything, you will need these," she explained, already beginning to back away from the crowd. "Maker be with you."

Alice wasted no time. She threw the first grenade to the ground and tucked the others away, waiting for a moment to make certain none of the attacking demons could see her. While she looked around, she watched the large one pluck Cassandra up like she was a rag doll and had to fight the itch to go distract the demon. It would be more helpful to seal the rift.

She resumed her task, extending her arm and focusing beyond the sensation of tiny daggers inside her head. The rift sparkled and hissed, but began to bend to her will, less unyielding than it had been the first time. Stretched as far as her arm could bear, her hand began to twitch, green sparks flying past her shield of invisibility. The effect already seemed to be waning. Worried she would lose her chance, Alice rushed to close the rift before she began to attract notice. With a loud snapping noise, the rift froze in place, immovable. Alice scanned the battlefield, her invisibility slipping away. She had not managed to close the rift, but she had certainly done something. All the demons, including the large one, had come to the same abrupt, stumbling halt as the rift, giving the soldiers a much needed advantage. The monstrous one was now hunched over and Cassandra was no longer in its grasp, though it was impossible to tell if she was still alive; it was possible she had not survived the fall, or that she had been killed in the moments Alice had struggled against the Breach.

The rift and demons alike both came back to life with a gasping shudder and Alice threw the second of four invisibility bombs Leliana had given her and made another attempt to close the rift. At least the last had not been for nothing, she consoled herself. Her head still throbbed, but the soldiers had managed to keep the large demon on its knees and, now that they had some sense of its weak spots, had begun coordinating their attacks to cause maximum damage. Alice maintained the rift until the large demon had just begun to stand again, then yanked it closed with so much speed that the demon toppled over, people sprinting to get out of the way.

 

They were winning. Green residue coated the battlefield and the soldiers both, and the high-pitched, frenzied screams of dying terrors could be heard throughout the temple. Alice had gone through her invisibility bombs at a rapid pace, but the battle had turned and she was no longer concerned about drawing attention. Whatever notice her actions garnered, she could handle it, and that was on the off-chance that someone else didn't engage the demons first.

She hadn't counted on the big demon, however.

Without the protection of the invisibility bombs, the monster had pieced together that Alice was the cause of its frequent bouts of immobility and it had carved a path through the soldiers to reach her. Alice's confidence faltered; there were so many soldiers fighting this demon that she couldn't count them all and they had barely made a dent before she had figured out how to stun it. If any force could prevent her from closing the rift, it was this.

The demon continued its approach, narrowing the gap between them. Even the tall buildings back in the wealthy Halamshiral neighborhoods would have looked tiny in comparison to the beast looming over her. A roar tore through the temple and then, all at once, Alice found herself squeezed by a hand so massive the claws alone were longer than her limbs.

There was nothing quite like the sensation of being lifted thirty odd feet in the air in a span of mere seconds, nor was there anything like being held in front of nine eyes all peering at her with predatory curiosity. The demon grinned, its lips pulling back to reveal hundreds of teeth, and threw her up in the air with sudden glee. One of her daggers flew from her grasp before she could tighten her grip, but she held fast to the other. It snagged her coat with one of its lengthy claws, precise in a way Alice had not anticipated, and tossed her in the air once more.

This time, however, it did not catch her on the way down.

With a sudden howl, the beast abandoned its game and Alice found herself falling directly toward its face. She landed on her side, remaining where she was just long enough to see that a well-placed arrow had struck its eye at an angle, stretching from the bottom eyelid all the way to, presumably, the upper half of its eye socket. Giant hands knocked Alice away before she could capitalize on the damage, the demon frantic to reach its wounded eye. Alice hurtled toward the ground, her limbs flailing for any sort of perch, and attempted to come up with some sort of solution - death was not on her list of things she had wanted to accomplish today. She reached out with her remaining dagger, hoping that against all odds, the angle and speed she was falling at would provide enough force to pierce the demon's hide. Her arms weren't long enough to reach, however, and she struggled to stay awake as fear and instincts took over.

Right as she was about to lose consciousness, the air rushing past her slowed. She could feel her heartbeat now, pounding a wild tempo in her ears. A glance downward showed time still moved as quick as ever, but she was now drifting gently toward the ground. Solas stood back from the fighting, eyes trained on her and Varric at his side, an absentminded hand on Solas's arm. Varric must have pointed her out to him, Alice realized with a surge of gratitude. 

Taking a moment to collect herself, she looked back up at the demon, who was continuing to claw at its face in agony. Arrow after arrow sliced through each eye, eliciting yelps that were so sincere as to almost be sympathetic.

The tops of soldiers heads became visible next to Alice and she shifted her body so she could land on her feet. She began to head toward Varric and Solas, who were engaged in a spirited conversation, Varric making broad gestures and Solas giving enthusiastic nods in response. All at once they stopped talking and Varric took aim at the demon's head. Alice assumed he would hit an eye again, the hide proven too thick for arrows to puncture, but when Varric loosed the arrow it flew with a speed Alice would never have thought possible and landed square in the middle of the creature's forehead. The demon let forth one more roar and fell to the ground, sending soldiers scurrying yet again, before they rushed back to finish the monster off. It appeared Solas had used the same sort of magic that had broken her fall to speed the arrow up enough to send it straight through the demon's skull. Cassandra appeared from the center of the chaos, making her way toward them. Unexpected relief at seeing her alive washed over Alice, but Cassandra didn't give her time for sentimentality, shouting orders instead.

"The demons are dead," she called. "Close the rift! Now!"

Alice turned to the rift, thrusting her hand up to meet it, surprised at how little resistance she was met with this time. Perhaps even the Breach was tired. The rift slid from the sky with relative ease, glowing bright enough that everyone around shielded their eyes and sending a column of green flames up to the Breach as it dissipated. The sound of the Breach sealing shut - hopefully - resonated with such volume Alice was certain it could be heard from all corners of Thedas. Searing pain moved through Alice's body, as she expected by now, but it was still preferable to being thrown into the air by a demon, and nothing had ever evoked as many grateful prayers from Alice as the sight of that rift disappearing.

"Is it done?" Cassandra demanded, looking to Solas for an answer.

The mage looked as haggard as Alice felt, leaning against his staff for support. "It is stable, Seeker, but the threat will remain unless we can repair what damage has been done."

Varric waved his hand, dismissing the comment. "Let's have just one moment without bad news, shall we?"

Alice turned to Solas. "What kind of demon was that and how do we kill it faster next time? I'm guessing you don't have the ability to pull that arrow stunt every time."

He gave a weak laugh. "Not quite, no. It was a demon of pride, and if we are to encounter any more of these creatures we must enchant our blades to be capable of breaking the skin more quickly. I would suggest gathering as many samples as our troops can carry."

Cassandra nodded to some of the soldiers eavesdropping nearby and they left for their task with slumped shoulders. Alice couldn't blame them - digging for demonic organs sounded much less pleasant than the reprieve she was enjoying.

"Varric," Cassandra said, "help Alice and Solas back to Haven. I will see to it that a few soldiers join you momentarily."

He nodded, extending an arm out for Alice to hold onto. She must have seemed less sure on her feet than she realized if he felt the need to offer assistance. Varric chattered at her the whole way back to Haven, with Solas and the soldiers Cassandra had promised keeping a good-natured silence a few feet behind them, but all the words sounded like background noise as the clamor of the Breach and the lyrium faded with every footstep. There was finally quiet in Alice's head and she wasn't about to let anything take that away from her - even if it meant allowing Varric to insist he had won their bet by claiming the pride demon was worth ten smaller ones.

When they reached Haven and Alice was shown her room at long last, she made her way to the bed and sank into a deep, grateful sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (posted two chapters back to back, so be sure to check out chapter 3 first!)

Alice awoke under a tangle of blankets and sheets, disoriented. She had no memory of grabbing bedding before she fell asleep. Heat pooled beneath the covers, drenching her with so much sweat she could feel her hair sticking to the back of her neck.

Disgust and curiosity in equal measures prompted Alice to get out of bed and explore the room. Her hair had come untied at some point while she slept so she searched for something to get the damp strands off her neck, finding luck with with a ribbon and a few hair pins on the desk. While she fussed with her hair, she examined the notes that someone had left in the room. They seemed to be about her health.

_Clammy. Shallow breathing. Pulse over-fast. Not responsive. Pupils dilated._

_Mage says her scarring "mark" is thrumming with unknown magic. Wish we could station a templar in here, just in case._

"Day One" was scribbled on top in impatient writing, an obvious afterthought. Alice frowned. If these notes were about her, which was hard to argue against with the reference to her mark, then they suggested that not only had she begun to have symptoms that required medical examination while she slept, but they had lasted for multiple days.

The door swung open, interrupting Alice's speculation, and an elven girl wandered in with a box in her hands and a pleasant expression on her face. Lost in her thoughts, she managed to make it all the way to the bed before noticing it was empty. The box slipped from the girl's hand and she spun around in panic, jolting back when she saw Alice standing at the desk, three hair pins in her mouth and hands wrapped around her hair.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, putting a hand over her heart. "I didn't know you were awake, I swear!"

Alice spat the pins back onto the desk, forgoing manners. "You're fine," she said. "How long have I-"

The girl fell to her knees before Alice could finish. "I beg your forgiveness and your blessing," she intoned, the words having the hollow tone of a memorized phrase. "I am but a humble servant."

Alice blinked. "Yeah, ah, you and me both, then," she said, securing the ribbon in her hair with a final tug and reaching for one of her discarded hair pins. "And I don't think my blessing is worth much, but I s'pose it's yours if you want it."

The girl shook her head and glanced up with fervent eyes. "They say you saved us. The Breach stopped growing, just like the mark on your hand. It's all anyone has talked about for three days."

Three days, then, and a stable Breach. That much Alice believed - the mark no longer hurt, not even an ache, and whatever symptoms she had experienced during her rest were no longer bothering her. It even made sense that her actions might have endeared her to the people of Haven, though the reverence of the girl in front of her seemed unnecessary. With the final pin slipped into place, Alice offered her a hand. The girl balked and stumbled back onto her feet, away from Alice.

"Is the danger over?" Alice asked, wheels turning in her head. Considering that her hand no longer hurt, she could begin to plan her escape in earnest now. No one would accuse the person who had saved them all of plotting to kill the Divine, would they? And she would serve no purpose to Cassandra and the others with the Breach already closed.

"The Breach is still in the sky," the girl answered, worrying her hands against one another, "but that's what they say. I'm certain Lady Cassandra would want to know you've wakened. She said 'at once'."

"Wait," Alice started, "I don't even know where she is, and I had more I wanted to-"

The girl was shaking her head and backing from the room, whatever was in the box she had brought long forgotten. "In the chantry, with the Lord Chancellor. 'At once', she said!" the girl repeated and fled from the room.

Alice shook her head and reached to run a hand through her hair before remembering she had already tied it. Wondering what had been in the box, Alice crouched and rummaged through it. Mostly herbs, it seemed, and some tools with which to mix them. Elfroot and dawn lotus were both helpful for healing, the lotus flower especially so. If she had managed to hold onto her old equipment, she might have mixed some potions right then, but she couldn't remember off the top of her head which of the other herbs in the box would produce the strongest medicine. She would need to return to the camp she had set up the night before she left for the assassination and see how many of her supplies had survived the madness of the last few days. Without her plant journal she was at a loss for anything medicinal, and it seemed as though potions and poultices would be of more use in her current situation than her standard poisons would.

Alice stood once more to search the room for her armor, which she found in an old wardrobe. Moths scattered when she opened it and she wrinkled her nose, giving each piece of her armor a good shake before donning it. She found her satchel as well and tucked the herbs into it, then opened the door, planning to find her way out of the town before anyone was the wiser.

Or maybe she wouldn't do any of that, she amended as she stepped outside to see that the girl who had just been in her room must have announced her consciousness to the entire town. Rows of people stood outside the house she had been in, staring at her with adoration. A sudden, self-destructive urge to shout that she would have killed the Divine anyway if the explosion hadn't beaten her to it washed over her, but she kept her mouth firmly shut and her lips pressed in an uncomfortable smile. It looked like she had no choice but to make her way through the crowd and see what Cassandra wanted at the chantry.

 

Voices sounded from the room Alice stood outside, her hand poised near the door handle. Whoever was in there aside from Cassandra sounded angry and familiar. The door was thick enough that she couldn't make out any definite words, though she could hear Leliana's voice every once in a while. Alice deliberated a moment longer before a undisguised stare from a chantry sister prompted her to open the door, revealing the familiar voice to be an irate Chancellor Roderick.

"Chain her," he barked at the guards standing position near the door. "I want her prepared for travel to the capital, for trial."

"Disregard that," Cassandra said, "and leave us." The guards obeyed Cassandra, disappearing from the room. She leaned against the war table before her and threw a challenging glare at the Chancellor.

"You walk a dangerous line, Seeker."

"The Breach is stable, but it is still a threat. I will not ignore it."

Alice stepped forward. "Am I still a suspect?" she asked, incredulous. "I followed you through demon-infested mountains, let a pride demon make a game of how high it could throw me, and closed a hole in the sky. It's a miracle I'm still alive at all and now you have people trying to chain me and send me to my death."

" _I_ have not. As I am also not responsible for the citizens who attempted to kill you while you slept," Cassandra countered, unbothered.

Alice ignored that new bit of trivia. People attempting to kill her was nothing unusual. It was this "trial" business and the bureaucracy she was uncomfortable with. "Am I a suspect, then, or no?"

"You are not."

Leliana spoke for the first time since Alice had entered, shooting a pointed look toward the Chancellor. "Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave. Someone Most Holy did not expect. Perhaps they died with the others, or have allies who yet live."

" _I_ am a suspect?" he sputtered, turning dark red in the face.

"You. And many others."

"But _not_ the prisoner?"

"I heard the voices in the temple," Cassandra said. "The Divine called to her for help."

Leliana's eyes flickered to Alice, watching for a reaction. Whatever she might say here, in front of Alice, it was clear she had not dismissed her as a potential enemy. Nor was she particularly careful about hiding it. If her goal was to put Alice off her guard, it was a waste of time - Alice had played the Game before, and played it in rooms where everyone's tells were hidden beneath masks. Subtle manipulations did not faze her.

Plus, if Cassandra's willingness to stand up for Alice was any indication, not everyone had pieced together what the memory in the Breach had shown them. Despite the people who still suspected her, there would be many who did not.

"So her survival, that _thing_ on her hand - all a coincidence?"

"Providence. The Maker sent her to us in our darkest hour."

"I see you bought into Solas's nonsense about me being an unlikely savior," Alice quipped. "Sorry to disappoint, but I don't recall the Maker ever running that by me."

"He would not have to," Cassandra said. "You were exactly what we needed when we needed it."

"The Breach remains," Leliana added, "and your mark is still our only hope of closing it."

"It's closed already," Alice argued, shaking her head. "I doubt it will open again."

"We have no way of knowing that for certain."

Chancellor Roderick cut in before Alice could respond. "This is _not_ for you to decide."

Cassandra picked up a nearby book, larger than any Alice had seen before, and slammed it down onto the table. "You know what this is, Chancellor?"

The Chancellor was silent.

"A writ from the Divine," she continued, "granting us the authority to act. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn." She began to march toward Chancellor Roderick, who backed away with every step she took forward, not unlike an animal who had found itself cornered. "We will close the Breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order, with or without your approval."

The Chancellor was speechless still, though he cast a dirty look over at Alice before turning on his heel and storming out of the room. Cassandra rubbed the back of her head, the stress of the last few days worn plain in her posture.

"We aren't ready," Leliana said, placing a hand softly on top of the book. "We have no leaders, no numbers, and now, no chantry support."

"But we have no choice. We must act now," Cassandra urged. She turned to Alice. "With you at our side."

Alice laughed, tired of playing along. "And what if I just want to go home?"

"You can go if you wish," Leliana said, her expression unreadable.

"You should know that while some believe you chosen, many still think you guilty. The Inquisition can only protect you if you are with us."

Alice frowned. This was nothing she had not considered already. A pair of sturdy leather gloves over her hands and likely no one would even recognize her once she left this place.

Leliana followed Alice's train of thought and her eyes dipped toward the mark. "We can also help _you_."

"I've no interest in being involved in whatever war you're starting."

"We are already at war," Cassandra snapped. "You are already involved. Its mark is upon you."

The uncertainty of the two women before her was palpable and stifling, but Alice was beginning to wonder if she shouldn't fear the potential reopening of the Breach as well. She had survived the last time through sheer luck and not without ample assistance. Alone and far from anyone versed in healing, or even in demons, as Solas had been, would mean certain death.

Her decision was made for her, in the form of a crescent-shaped scar on her hand.

"I will help." The words felt sour on her tongue.

Cassandra extended a hand for Alice to shake on it, which she did with a great deal of reluctance.

"Go and gather everyone," Leliana said, walking toward the door. "I will prepare the ravens."

When she had left, Cassandra turned to Alice.

"Come with me."

 

An hour later, the people of Haven stood in a crowd outside the chantry, gazing up at the founders of the new Inquisition. Cassandra and Alice stood off to one side, with two people Alice had not yet met on the other: a blonde man was one of them, vaguely Fereldan, with a disgruntled expression on his face. The other was a woman with Antivan features, who wore a golden dress and looked far more at ease than the Fereldan man at her side. In the middle, a few steps closer to the crowd, was the Lady Trevelyan, dark hair hanging in a single braid.

"People of Haven," she began with the practiced tone of someone who had given many speeches before, a wide smile crossing her face. "It is my duty and my pleasure to announce to you the rebirth of the Inquisition."

Chatter spread through the crowd and the lady waited for it to die down with far more patience than Alice would have been able to muster.

"My name is Sofia Trevelyan," the lady continued, "and I have left my post as seneschal of Tantervale in order to stand before you today as a founding member of this Inquisition, and to assure you that we stand ready to mend the damage that has been done here. All we ask in return is that you allow us to remain in your fine town until we are able to locate a more permanent home elsewhere. We will share our food and supplies with those who wish to join us and we will not impede the hunting or daily work of those who do not."

A few people were slowly nodding, or leaning toward neighbors to confer. Alice was surprised to see the level of agreement they showed, although she supposed they _were_ in dire need of assistance, being the closest to the Breach itself. Under those circumstances, she might not have found Sofia's request unreasonable either.

Sofia was still speaking. "We dedicate ourselves not only to the defeat of the Breach and the demons who plague your lands, but also to hearing out your concerns. Lady Josephine Montilyet and I are both available to you should you have need of us," she said, gesturing to the woman in gold. Josephine looked almost eager now, eyes excited and a sincere smile on her face as she waved to the crowd.

"Friends, I introduce to you also: Cullen Rutherford," Sofia swept her hand toward the blonde man, his cheeks becoming light pink as the collective gaze of the crowd landed on him. "Former Knight-Captain of Kirkwall, and Lady Cassandra Pentaghast, former Right Hand to the Divine.

"You will see then, that we are Andrastians, the same as you, with morals aligned with your own. Our goals are not in opposition of the Chantry's, despite what you may have been led to believe. We simply wish to act, to allow the Chantry time to mourn the loss of our beloved Most Holy, without sacrificing these small towns such as yourself. You will need protection in the days to come, and we are prepared to grant it you. Will you lend us your aid in return for all we have to offer? Will you stand alongside us, and alongside the woman who has the Maker-given power to seal the Breach?" Alice stiffened as the people turned to her, too many eyes measuring their faith in her. Even Sofia appeared to be holding her breath, and Alice had to wonder how much of her fervent speech was simply an act, staged for a town notorious in its strong belief.

One by one, the people began to respond, some with nods and other with cheers, but regardless of how they expressed their support, all but a handful of them gave it readily. The founders of the Inquisition all appeared relieved, and Sofia and Josephine began speaking to small groups of citizens, soothing fears and easing tensions. Cassandra insisted they parade through the crowd once, looking no more pleased with the task than Alice was, and then ushered her back into the chantry, the other founders following a moment later, hope and pride evident on their faces.

The Inquisition had just secured itself a home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed these today! Also, for anyone curious as to what Alice and Sofia look like, I've made an [oc page](http://archertethras.tumblr.com/ocs) on my [tumblr](http://archertethras.tumblr.com). Thank you again for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for a POV change and the very very beginning of some femslash....

Sofia pulled the Chantry doors shut behind them, privately glad to be away from the crowds. Public speaking had always been a talent of hers but she had never enjoyed it, merely tolerated it. This speech especially had been a delicate balancing act she hadn't been sure she could pull off - support for the Chantry without allowing the people of Haven to grow attached to the idea that the Inquisition and the Chantry would be working alongside one another. That would most definitely not be the case, and there was no doubt in her mind that the days to come would prove it a thousand times over.

The other founders were making their way back to the war room, brief snippets of their conversations reaching Sofia as she lingered near the door to collect herself. Josephine was mediating yet another dispute between Leliana and Cullen, while Cassandra was asking Alice if the mark troubled her. Their voices faded the farther they got from her and Sofia resigned herself to the fact that it was time to move on, however jumpy she still felt.

Everyone filtered into the war room, with Sofia and Josephine the last to enter. Josephine stopped her before she joined the others, concern on her face.

"How are you feeling, Lady Trevelyan? I remember you mentioned you are not fond of making speeches."

A grateful smile found its way to Sofia's lips. "I'm fine, I promise," she said. "If I were that concerned I would have taken you up on your offer to make the speech in my place."

"I'm quite certain Leliana would have understood."

"Understood what? That the woman she appointed as field ambassador is afraid of crowds? I'm sure you see why I would need to make the speech regardless."

Josephine bit her lip. "I do. Well, if it is any help to you, my lady, you are quite talented. The people agreed more easily than I had expected."

"Thank you, truly, Lady Montilyet. It does help," she said, the compliment both embarrassing and appreciated. "And please, there's no need to be formal with me. You can call me Sofia."

"Of course, Sofia."

The two of them joined the others in the war room, introductions to Alice already underway. Sofia gave her name and title when her turn came up, and launched right into their agenda. There was no time for them to waste, not when the Chantry was publicly denouncing them at every turn.

"Cassandra," she said, "I believe you mentioned having news about the Breach?"

"I did. I have spoken with Solas, and he believes a second attempt may be successful, provided we can match the power that was used to create the Breach in the first place."

"So we must go to the rebel mages," Leliana mused aloud. "If enough of them were to combine their strength, we might be able to amplify the mark's power."

Cullen shook his head and Sofia braced herself for the inevitable argument that was to come. These two could agree on nothing. They would probably find a way to debate how best to put a coat on. "Or," he said, "we could go to the templars."

"The templars? What for?"

"Perhaps they would be able to suppress the magic in the Breach, allowing Alice's mark to match the power of it."

Leliana's eyes narrowed. "'Perhaps'? It sounds like this is nothing but speculation."

"As though your suggestion isn't? What a grand idea! Throw unprecedented amounts of magic at an already volatile-"

"Enough," Cassandra snapped. "We need power, Commander. Enough magic poured into that mark-"

"Could destroy us all! It would be better not to chance it."

"While I see your point, Cullen," Sofia cut in, already regretting her decision to interject, "it does seem a little… far-fetched, compared to Leliana's suggestion. Magic created the Breach and magic seems the surest way to close it."

"Or to make it worse," he muttered. Heaving a great sigh, he ran his hand across his face. "Look, I'm not opposed to gaining the mages' support. I just think we need time to study the Breach before we do anything rash - time we simply don't have."

"On the contrary, I'm sure we can arrange that, Commander," Josephine said, "considering at the moment neither group will speak to us." She turned to Alice, who looked the way one might if they had been forced to sit through a very uncomfortable reunion with extended family; Sofia had made the same face many times over. "The Chantry has denounced us, and you specifically."

A sudden grin flickered across Alice's face and she tossed a mischievous look toward Sofia. "So, we're 'letting the Chantry mourn', then?"

Sofia cleared her throat. "I'm sorry, Miss…?"

"Glaisyer," Alice supplied helpfully.

"Miss Glaisyer, I'm sure you will agree that it seems unwise, especially in a devout town such as Haven, to publicly declare the Chantry as our opposition." Alice continued to smirk at Sofia. "You are not to share any of this outside this room," Sofia warned. "I should hope that goes without saying."

"Oh, of course," Alice said, tone flippant and not at all reassuring. Her attention returned to Josephine. "So, why me specifically? Does the Chantry just really dislike people saving the world?"

Maker, Sofia hated this girl already. While Josephine explained the Chantry's declaration of heresy in response to Alice's new title as Herald of Andraste, Sofia scrutinized the girl. They knew nothing of her background, despite Leliana's efforts to unearth whatever information she could find. All they knew was what they could discern just from being around her - she was muscular, so she likely ate well and was physically active. Cassandra had confiscated a number of devices that would be useful in stealth and combat, such as the invisibility bombs they had found, which made her appearance at the Conclave incredibly suspect. And the way she carried herself, confident and loose-limbed, did not align with the more calculated look in her eyes. Though Sofia could not say so in present company, she had to admit Leliana's insistence that they should keep an eye on Alice was not unfounded.

"Herald of Andraste?" Alice asked. "What a load of blighted horse shit, who came up with that?"

"The people of Haven," Sofia drolled. "The same ones that supplied us with an apothecary in order to keep you alive."

Alice's face flushed. "I'm not a herald," she said. "I'm an elf who hasn't set foot in a Chantry within the last ten years, aside from today. There's nothing holy about me."

Cassandra shook her head. "The people saw how you stopped the Breach from growing. They are right to be impressed."

"Impressed, sure. Shit, I'd even take adoring. But it hardly warrants worship - I don't see how I'm the herald of anything, let alone Andraste."

"They have also heard about the woman seen in the rift when we first found you. They believe that was Andraste."

The mention of the woman seemed to freeze Alice in place for a moment, her casual veneer slipping.

"Are you alright?" Josephine asked in concern.

"Yes," Alice said, sounding shaken. "I'm just… They, ah, they thought she was Andraste?"

For some reason, Sofia didn't quite believe that was the part that had rattled Alice into stillness. Anyone who proclaimed to have such little interest in the Chant of Light should have been able to brush it off, perhaps even contest it. Something else had gotten to her.

Leliana nodded. "Even if we tried to stop that belief from spreading-"

"Which we have not," Cassandra cut in, earning her a glare from Leliana.

"The point is, everyone is talking about you."

"It is not necessarily a bad thing," Josephine added. "It has earned us the support of Haven, and will surely bring us more in the days to come. It simply limits our options for the time being."

"Herald of Andraste," Cullen said, breaking his silence. "It's quite a title. How do you feel about it?"

"Like someone might want to dock the tips of my ears off," Alice muttered.

An uncomfortable lull in the conversation followed her comment before Leliana spoke again, voice softer than Sofia would have anticipated. "To many, you have become a sign of hope. They saw you stop the Breach, they see you walk through their town with the mark that proves it. If anyone can fix this mess, it is you. Whether you believe your power was given by the Maker, or another god, or was just a terrible coincidence, the fact is that you have it. They are giving it a name they can understand."

Alice was quiet, staring down at the war table. After a moment she nodded.

"What about Haven?" she asked. "You've already said the Chantry has deemed us heretics. I'm no expert, but this town doesn't look defensible - if they send an army, we're dead."

"It's not defensible," Cullen agreed, "but hopefully, it's temporary. I already have scouts looking for other possibilities. You and Lady Trevelyan may speak to city leaders more equipped to house us, if all else fails."

"The Chantry has nothing to gain by attacking us just yet," Sofia assured her. "Many of their templars have gone rogue, and most people believe we are either their unlikely saviors or a group of idealistic upstarts. They would endear themselves to no one but those who already oppose us."

"I would assume that if I'm such a symbol of hope, people would be rushing to pledge their support of us. Is no one focused on the Breach?"

"They know it's a threat, they just don't believe  _ we  _ can stop it," Cullen said.

Josephine gave Alice a sympathetic look. "The Chantry is telling everyone you'll make it worse."

"Great," Alice complained. "I love a hopeless situation. It's been three whole days since I was in one."

"There is something you can do," Leliana said. "There is a Chantry mother who has reached out to us. I intended to send Sofia to speak with her, but she expressed interest in meeting you specifically. Originally I did not think… well, perhaps it would not be such a bad idea for you to tag along after all. She is not far, and she knows those involved far better than I. Her assistance could be invaluable."

"Why would a Chantry mother reach out to the Inquisition? It seems questionable at best." Alice's words echoed Sofia's concern. When Leliana had first told her of Mother Giselle, she had been skeptical, but Leliana had dismissed her worries.

Leliana frowned. "Forgive me for taking opportunities as they come."

"I will be coming with you," Cassandra said, "and if you would prefer, we could keep Solas and Varric nearby."

"Let's do that," Sofia agreed. She would feel better with people more experienced in combat than she was nearby. The chaos in the temple had not been the best introduction to battle she could have asked for, though she was still proud of the arrow she had driven through the pride demon's eye. Marksmanship training had turned out to be useful after all.

"You will find her in the Hinterlands, tending to the wounded," Leliana said.

Sofia looked at her new traveling companion. "Do you know where the quartermaster is?" Alice shook her head. "Quartermaster Threnn is stationed near the tents outside the Chantry. Find her and have her prepare supplies for a party of five to journey to the Hinterlands tomorrow morning. After that, the day is yours to do with as you please."

Alice left, most of the others trailing after her to go attend to their own responsibilities. Sofia stayed behind, studying the war table. Working for the Inquisition still felt odd, a huge departure from the work she had done back in the Free Marches. How Leliana could look at a career politician and see a potential field ambassador was beyond her. Maker's breath, she had barely spent any time outside in her childhood. Between lessons in music, reading, social graces…archery had been the one reprieve, and even that took place in her own backyard. Living on her own had provided her more freedom, but by then she had been so used to shutting herself away that what little time she had outside of her political and social life she usually spent in her library.

Josephine reappeared in the doorway. "Did I leave my clipboard in here?"

Sofia hid a grin at the sight of the woman so frazzled, and glanced over to where she had had been standing during the meeting. A clipboard sat on the table, parchment covered top to bottom in precise handwriting. "Looks like it," she said, handing it to Josephine.

"Oh, thank goodness," Josephine exclaimed. "It's not like me to forget. I've just been a little… out of sorts, since we arrived here. Everything is so cramped! I can't move more than two steps without running into a wall."

"I was just thinking of home," Sofia admitted, leaning a hip against the war table. "I take it I'm not the only one who grew up a bit spoiled, then?"

Josephine's cheeks burned a deep red. "How inappropriate of me, my apologies, Lady… Sofia." She began to retreat from the doorway.

"Oh, oh, no," Sofia said in a rush to keep Josephine there. Being alone with her thoughts had become somewhat unbearable since her arrival in Haven. All she did was ruminate on her regrets about leaving Tantervale. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have presumed; that was incredibly rude of me. I… all those years of my mother hounding after me about manners and I forget them the second I'm out of her sight. Please, I only meant that I sympathize."

Josephine gave her an uncertain smile. "I accept your apology. No harm, truly. It's not as though what you said was entirely inaccurate."

"Same goes for what you said. I feel like there's hardly room to breathe, let alone to stretch out for a good night's rest."

The smile on Josephine's face grew more sincere. "Perhaps some time we might commiserate, then. Leliana is no good for it - she has slept in the Deep Roads, of all places! Could you even imagine?"

"Ah, is that why my requisition order for satin sheets was replaced with one for deepstalker hide?" Sofia joked, relieved beyond measure that Josephine was not offended by her poor etiquette. For someone whose job was to make people feel at ease, Maker, she was bad at conversation.

Although that might have been more anxiety than anything, she realized with a start. Beautiful women had always made her nervous.

Josephine laughed. "You joke, but I wouldn't put it past her."

A Chantry sister's voice sounded from the hallway. "Lady Montilyet? There is someone requesting a word with you."

"Of course, sister, tell them I will be there in just a moment," Josephine replied. She cast a frantic glance down at her clipboard as though making sure it had not disappeared in the span of their brief conversation, then directed her attention back at Sofia. "I apologize, I must-"

"Of course," Sofia cut her off with a wave of the hand and a smile. "I understand. It was nice to talk to you, Lady Montilyet. I'll have to take you up on that offer to complain some time soon."

"Commiserate," she corrected. "And, please, Sofia, there is no need to be so formal. You may call me Josephine."

And with that, she was gone, leaving Sofia to slightly more pleasant thoughts than she'd had before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked Sofia so far! Thank you all for reading :)


	6. Chapter 6

If Sofia thought Haven was bad, it was nothing compared to spending two weeks straight in makeshift camps with Alice and the others. Cassandra was the only person Sofia had known prior to the start of their journey and while she was nice enough and they got on well, Cassandra was not the kind of woman you complained to. Even if what you were complaining about was a perfectly reasonable thing to be frustrated about.

Like the neverending mountain roads between Haven and the Hinterlands.

When Sofia had first come to Haven, she had arrived on horseback and alone save for the small entourage of guards she had brought with her. There was none of this business of hiking or sharing tents, especially not with rogues who had more attitude than was healthy and a tendency to keep a candle burning halfway into the night so they could write about plants. _Plants_.

According to Alice there was some sort of importance to this journal, thus the need to spend an ungodly amount of time making meticulous observations about every kind of plant they encountered, including some that were common enough that one would think someone with this level of interest in flora would already know everything there was to know about the species. It didn't help matters that Alice had needed to start an entirely new journal after her old one had somehow gotten waterlogged some time between her arrival to the Haven area and her capture. She had been decidedly vague on the details.

Despite the vitriol between the two, they managed to make it through the mountains without incident, though Sofia had been tempted to knock the candle over and send them all up in flames a few times. The terrain was easier in the Redcliffe outskirts, more hill than mountain, and her mood improved tenfold as they neared their destination. It was nice to have a reminder that there was a point to all this travel. Varric and Solas stopped at a more permanent camp the Inquisition had set up nearby, leaving only Cassandra, Alice, and Sofia to continue the journey to meet Mother Giselle, who was supposedly near enough that their return trip would take an hour at most. Perhaps things would begin to look up, Sofia thought as she rounded a corner onto the path leading into the outskirts.

A ball of flame went zooming past Sofia's head without warning and she let forth a slew of expletives, some of which she had never actually used before. Alice shot her a look of surprise, whether from the fire or the curses Sofia had no way of knowing, and Cassandra was off and running in the direction from which the flames had flown before Sofia had even had time to get her bearings.

Pulling daggers from their scabbards, Alice grinned at Sofia. "You alright? Singe your hair?"

Sofia growled in response and readied her bow.

 

The battle took almost no time to win, the templars and mages that had been warring no match for the three of them plus the Inquisition soldiers that had already been stationed in the outskirts. Alice, apparently void of respect for the dead, was already looting the fallen bodies. Technically, keeping her from behaving in such a fashion was Sofia's jurisdiction, but it turned out the fireball _had_ singed her hair and she was in no mood to argue in circles about etiquette.

Inquisition flags stood throughout the small village, its allegiance pledged shortly before Sofia and the others had arrived. Through the soldier's chatter she learned that they had reached this area mere days ago and found the villagers so desperate for protection they had agreed to house the Inquisition troops without hesitation.

Through the chaos, Chantry robes caught Sofia's attention and she took a small moment to rejoice. After she spoke with the mother, she would be able to return to Haven and hope her next assignment was to somewhere more pleasant. And preferably less… rural.

It took a second or two to pry Alice away from the coin purses on the ground but once her attention had returned to the task at hand, Sofia made her way over to the mother with both Cassandra and the freckled nuisance in tow. As she neared, she could hear Mother Giselle reassuring a wounded soldier that the mage healers would not harm him. Surprise washed over her. She had not expected anyone affiliated with the Chantry to voice support for the mages - Maker knew she had argued with half of Tantervale on the subject.

"Mother Giselle?" she asked.

The mother looked up. "I am," she said, standing to greet them. "And you must be with the Inquisition."

"Yes. A pleasure to meet you, Your Reverence. I am Sofia Trevelyan, field ambassador to the Inquisition, and this is Alice Glaisyer, the Herald of Andraste. I trust you have heard of Cassandra Pentaghast before?" Sofia gestured to them each in turn.

Mother Giselle gave them a soft smile and nodded. "Of course. Please, take a walk with me."

 

Mother Giselle was quiet as the four of them walked together, leaving Sofia to her thoughts, which she turned toward the village. People busied themselves with work throughout the area, looking ill-fed and cold, Sofia noted. A few here or there had fur lined jackets, but more were shivering in little more than their tunics and trousers. Requisition orders would need be placed to feed and clothe these people, if the supplies could be diverted from elsewhere. A desperate alliance was a shaky one and unless the Inquisition endeared itself to the villagers it would not be long before they were praying for someone to remove the Inquisition from their lands as well.

Once they had made their way through the crowds, too far for anyone to overhear them, Mother Giselle stopped. She surveyed the town a moment before speaking, eyes scanning the same crowds Sofia had just been worrying over and likely seeing the same things. The silence dragged on between them as she watched the people. Sofia got the sense that this was a woman who chose her words carefully, and had been given good reason to over the years.

"I know of the Chantry's denouncement and I am familiar with those behind it," she began at last. "I won't lie to you, some of them are grandstanding, hoping to increase their chances of becoming the new Divine. Some are simply terrified. So many good people, taken from us." Grief rested heavy on her words.

"The Inquisition hopes to limit further loss," Sofia said.

"I know that, child. It is why I have come to you instead of the Chantry."

"And why not the Chantry?" Alice accused. Sofia felt her cheeks began to burn. Nothing good could come of Alice's temper right now. She had spoken to Sofia of little else outside her concern that Mother Giselle's interest in them was a trick. "I would think someone who had stayed with them long enough to become a Chantry mother might show them a bit more loyalty."

Cassandra placed a hand on Alice's shoulder, a gesture meant to appear calming, but that Sofia recognized as a warning. "I was the Right Hand of the Divine," Cassandra reminded. "Leliana, the Left. Cullen, a Knight-Captain in Kirkwall. We all served the chantry loyally for years, but when we were forced to choose between the chantry and our faith, every one of us chose faith. What other choice could we have made?"

"With no Divine, we are each left to our own conscience," Giselle added.

"Exactly so."

"And mine tells me this. Go to them. Convince the remaining clerics you are no demon to be feared. They have heard only frightful tales of you. Give them something else to believe."

"They believe in deep pockets," Alice said, voice laden with disgust. "Should I turn mine out for them, so they can decide if I'm worth their time and prayer?"

Sofia glared at Alice. "Alice. Listen to the mother, please. I promise she knows the situation better than you do," she said through gritted teeth.

"Why should I? Either she's a traitor to the Chantry with questionable loyalty, or she's still with them and they're just looking for some way to profit off this new disaster!"

"Well, I hardly think you're any better," Sofia hissed, propriety forgotten, "considering we all just watched you count the coins you took off the dead while they were still warm!"

Alice tossed her an indignant look. "What, will they need them at the Maker's side? Does he charge admittance?"

Mother Giselle cleared her throat, and Sofia stopped her bickering long enough to see the mother and Cassandra both looking horrendously uncomfortable.

"I am so sorry-" she started, but Mother Giselle raised a hand to stop her.

"There is no need for apologies," she reassured them, casting an appraising look at Alice. "You speak with an Orlesian accent. Orlais is no comfortable place for an elf."

"How astute," Alice remarked, sarcasm coating her words. If only Sofia had a wallop mallet, Maker, she could hit the girl with it. When they returned to Haven her first order of business would be to insist to the others that Alice never accompany anyone on a diplomatic mission ever again.

Mother Giselle only smiled, more forgiving than Sofia by far. "I cannot say I blame you for your distrust. Our people do not have a history of being kind to you."

"The Orlesians or the Chantry?"

"Either. Both."

Alice was quiet, considering. The acknowledgement seemed to calm her somewhat, and the calculating look had returned to her eyes. It was hard to tell if this was an improvement.

"Let me put it this way: you needn't convince them all," Mother Giselle explained. "You just need some of them to doubt. Their power is their unified voice. Take that from them and you receive the time you need."

"Thank you, Mother Giselle," Sofia said, sincere. "You are helping us more than you know."

Mother Giselle nodded but remained focused on Alice. "I honestly don't know if you've been touched by fate, or sent to help us, but I hope. Hope is what we need now. The people will listen to your rallying call as they will listen to no other." She turned to Sofia. "I will return with you to Haven and provide Sister Leliana the names of those in the Chantry who would be amenable to a gathering. It is not much, but I will do whatever I can."

"Thank you, Your Reverence," Cassandra said. "It would be best for you and I to leave presently. Sofia is needed here in the Hinterlands." What? Sofia stared at Cassandra in shock before a scrap of discarded memory fell into place.

Maker, she had forgotten the blighted horsemaster.

Cassandra explained the location of their camp to Mother Giselle so that she might find her way after gathering whatever belongings she wished to take. It sounded as though, with Solas’s magical ability marking him as too much of a target to remain in the Hinterlands, Cassandra planned on having him return  with her - and while Sofia would not normally have disagreed, between his departure and Cassandra's she would be left traveling another few weeks with only Alice and Varric. Despite never being the violent sort before she was not entirely sure she could last that long without killing either of them.

"Let us return to camp," Cassandra said, voice breaking through Sofia's dread. She nodded.

Mother Giselle placed a hand on her arm, a silent request for her to stay a moment longer. She waited until Cassandra and Alice were out of earshot and then spoke to Sofia alone. "A unified voice might be the extent of the Chantry's power right now, but it is a good defense. Try to remember that with your own people. You need not like them all, but it is always better to understand where someone is coming from."

Embarrassment and shame settled in Sofia's gut as she realized the mother had disapproved of her bickering with Alice more strongly than she had let on. The words rang true, however, and it would not do to receive such reasonable advice without grace.

"Yes, Your Reverence," she said, ducking her head. It hadn't occurred to her that Alice might have kept such strange habits out of personal necessity, rather than just to annoy her. Perhaps it was time to remember the world did not revolve around her.

All the same, she ached to return to Haven. A session of commiserating with Josephine would surely be needed after all this.

 

Sofia returned to camp in solitude after the mother left to pack her things. Varric and Alice sat together outside one of the tents as Varric allowed her to sketch parts of Bianca in a torn page from her journal, occasionally darting a hand out to halt hers and tell her no, not that part. A serious frown rested on his face as he monitored what Alice drew, though there didn't appear to be any rhyme or reason to what he allowed and what he denied. The two of them had grown close, Sofia noted, their relationship almost familial. It surprised her - despite Alice's cocksure attitude, she was withdrawn for the most part, preferring to keep to herself, but with Varric she would talk as though the two of them had known each other for years.

She supposed Mother Giselle might have been right. Alice was a pain, but Sofia had decided to distrust her before even giving her a chance. There was precious little information about her to be found, which had made Leliana suspicious, but the more time Sofia spent around Alice the less she believed the girl had ever been a danger. More likely than not, there was so little known about her because she came from a poor part of Orlais, and her jumps between overconfidence and uncomfortable silences could be due to being suddenly thrust into the world of politics without any real training. Of course she would be nervous; Sofia still got nervous after almost a decade in the field - she was just better at concealing it.

Sure, it was a little strange that Alice was proficient with poisons, and it did appear as though she had already been in the room when the shadowed figure in the Breach was torturing Divine Justinia, but…

Sofia abandoned her train of thought. Mother Giselle had been right to remind her that division in their ranks would help no one, and the Maker would not look kindly on her for condemning someone without first giving them the benefit of the doubt. The Inquisition needed to be strong, and Alice was the face of that strength.

It looked like Sofia would just need to learn to trust a little easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for having a bit of delay getting this chapter up; I've been sick (just a cold) and lazy!!! It's also worth mentioning to you all that I just started school this week, and it turns out it's a bit difficult to switch from accounting-and-business mode to writing-dai-femslash mode. You won't see any difference in chapter output for a while, as I've written through 8 and into 9, but fair warning that if I haven't figured out how to adjust my brain by the time that chapter rolls around there might be a few Saturday or Sunday chapters for a bit! I will do my best to avoid that though & as always thank you for reading :)


	7. Chapter 7

The journey to Redcliffe's outlying farmland went by quicker than Alice had anticipated. This was good news, considering they were down to a single tent and while Sofia had been in a better mood - or, at least, was less antagonistic - it seemed like a bad idea to tempt fate. The sudden shift in Sofia's behavior was bizarre; it had started almost immediately after their meeting with Mother Giselle and Alice wasn't sure that she trusted it. Still, it was nice to work on her plant journal without receiving glares from across the tent.

The old journal, which she had gone to retrieve after dealing with Quartermaster Threnn, had been a loss. At some point during the three days she slept, the sun had grown hot enough to melt the snow surrounding her makeshift camp and give her journal a thorough soaking. The invisibility bombs and poisons had survived, but years of detailed notes had been washed away as though they had never existed at all. Many of the deadlier plants she knew by heart, so she started the new journal by cataloguing them, drawing pictures from memory as well. But she had relied on that book for even the most basic healing herbs, which meant she had spent much of their trip to the outskirts gathering elfroot for study and for her sketches.

Serving as a distraction from her plants, the sparse notes Varric had allowed her to take on Bianca taunted her from the back pages of the journal. She had examined them, attempted to theorize with Varric, and sketched up her own ideas for what she might be able to base off its design, but she was out of her depth. Inventing was a hobby of hers that she had never had a chance to pursue. Even if she had resources with which to experiment, she was uncertain how the different pieces even worked together, the knowledge gleaned from Bianca frustratingly incomplete. Part of her was tempted to walk behind Varric on all their travels to better study the bow but she figured if he was so stingy with information about it, he probably had a good reason for it.

It was possible the reason was just that he was being an ass, but why not allow him his privacy in the matter?

Besides, walking behind him was not often an option - the mage and templar battle raged throughout the western Hinterlands, leaving their party to skulk through dark, narrow mountain passes or race through open fields in desperate search of cover to avoid being caught in the crossfire. At one point, while Varric led the party, he had caught fire and had to roll around on the ground to put it out - a sight that might have been comical if not for how near a brush with death it had been. He'd insisted on bringing up the rear every since. Truth be told, Alice was becoming sick of the entire area - although she was pleased to see embrium seemed to flourish here - and especially of the templars. As far as she could tell templars were just glorified Chantry chevaliers, running through mage circles instead of city slums and cutting off hands instead of ears. Despite having little experience with either warring faction, her disgust with the chevaliers tainted any possibility there might have been for her to throw her lot in with the templars.

On a more positive note, the rifts no longer made her ill, so closing them had become somewhat old news and the party had avoided any more terrors thus far, to the great relief of the two archers traveling with her. Sofia had assured Varric there were enchanters back at Haven who could ensure their arrows were more effective against them, but they had left so quickly for the Hinterlands that no one had thought to do so before their departure. Things were not great, what with dodging vicious faction attacks, but they were not bad either. Alice could handle this.

They would, according to Sofia's hesitant calculations, reach Horsemaster Dennet soon - some time around noon the next day.

 

"Hard to believe people live in the middle of all this," Sofia remarked, skinning their kill for the night while Alice took down information on some of the berries they had found in her journal. Provisions had run out thanks to a tendency of Varric's to enjoy late night snacks.

"Not at all, Arrows," Varric said. "Kirkwall was nearly as bad, though I think our apostates were allergic to sunlight."

"No such luck with these. Never in all my life have I seen magic wielded so openly."

"You should spend more time with mages. Fun bunch."

"I'm not opposed to mages," Sofia clarified. "In fact, I've spent most of my career pulling strings from behind the scenes to see to it they receive more freedoms. Tantervale is nearly as harsh as Kirkwall, though; I don't know that I made much progress."

Varric was silent for a moment. "Have you ever _met_ a mage before Solas, Arrows?"

Sofia shook her head.

"Then I doubt you made any progress, to tell you the truth."

"What do you mean?" Alice asked, looking up from her book for the first time since the fire had been set up. Lazy sketches of berries filled the page in front of her.

"I mean that some noblewoman isn't going to know what will and won't help the mages unless she talks to them about it."

Sofia set aside the discarded ram skin. She didn't appear to be offended by Varric's words; if anything she looked thoughtful. Whatever it was she was thinking, however, she didn't bother to share it with the two of them. "Will one of you help me with this?" she asked. "Solas only showed me how to skin a ram, not how to cook them."

"It's easy. Here," Alice said, moving Sofia out of the way. "I did most of the cooking on our way here."

"You did?"

"Yeah, you were usually in the tent or talking with Cassandra." Alice had noticed Sofia's studious avoidance of her on their trip to the outskirts, but had kept the information to herself. It wasn't as though it bothered her, really; she preferred to spend time with Varric anyway. It was just something to keep in mind, information to be catalogued - some people believed she was the Herald and some did not. If the tide ever turned against her, it would be useful to know who was in which camp.

"Oh," Sofia said, looking at her with that strange guilty expression she had worn off and on since their meeting with Mother Giselle. "You're quite a good cook."

Alice blinked at her. "It's ram. Over a campfire. Without any real flavor."

"Well, all the same-"

"Whatever you're trying to do, this weird kindness thing, I don't care for it," Alice interrupted, irritated and tired of trying to figure out the reason behind Sofia's sudden shift in temperament. "Be nice to me when you want to be, not when you think you need to be or… whatever this is."

Sofia flushed, but nodded.

"I don't mind you, okay?" Alice continued. "I think you're kind of weird, and you complain a lot, but I get it. You're some rich girl who's never had to do anything in her life or deal with anyone you couldn't talk out of your way, and you don't know how you wound up sitting around a fire with two people who make taking the piss out of you their own personal game. I wouldn't like it in your shoes either, I'm sure, but you're going to have to adapt or quit altogether. I mean, if I'm not mistaken, this is kind of your job now."

"No, you're right," Sofia said. "About all of that. I just… I'm trying not to take it out on anyone now. So I apologize for my… earlier behavior."

Alice stared at her, confused. "What do you have to apologize for? Every time you got mad at me I was being difficult on purpose. I'm pretty sure yelling at me is _also_ your job now."

An exasperated expression crossed Sofia's face. "Maker damn you, would you just accept the apology?"

Varric laughed. "Dandelion, give the girl a break."

"Sure, yeah, apology accepted, I just don't understand."

"Don't worry about it," Sofia insisted. "It's not important. Just show me how to cook this bloody thing so I don't have to come get you next time."

 

Horsemaster Dennet was not, truth be told, a pleasant man to be around. His small cottage reeked of horse shit, which was somewhat understandable, as did his temperament, which was not. For what felt like hours he and Sofia had argued circles around one another, Dennet insisting that he could spare no mounts for what he called "a ramshackle group of ruffians at best" and Sofia tirelessly contesting every negative accusation he threw at her.

Really, Alice should have expected this to be an uphill battle after his reaction to learning that she had closed the rift on his farm was "well, good for you, you have a magic hand."

She kind of liked him.

"Listen," Dennet said, his irritability subsiding into exhaustion. Whatever Sofia had said - Alice had stopped paying attention - had apparently worn him down. "You have soldiers in every part of the map, claiming cities and scaring people half to death. How am I supposed to react to you showing up on my step and demanding to speak to me about my horses? Are you going to take no for an answer? Will you threaten me, or take them by force? I haven't seen anything good come out of your… organization, let's call it, since it cropped up. I need to know I can trust you, that you'll keep my horses safe. More than that, I need to know that you _can_ keep them safe."

Sofia paused, one of her thumbs worrying against the opposite wrist. A long moment passed while she considered his answer, then finally she said, "I understand. How can we prove to you that we're here to help you?"

Dennet looked taken aback. "Well, I… I know my wife has been having trouble with wolves lately. They've gone blighted mad. And I'm sure Bron has a couple ideas on how to keep us all safe here. I didn't think you'd offer to help or anything," Dennet admitted.

"Neither did I," Sofia said, looking sheepish. "But you make a good point. No one wants the Inquisition to be seen as fearsome. We simply seek to set things right."

"Well, that's something I can stand for. Make good on your offer to help and I'll see to it you leave with horses for your return trip. Those make it up those mountains with as small a party you've got, you can send for the rest."

Sofia glanced at Alice and Varric, sprawled out on the couch Dennet had allowed them to claim, and gestured for them to follow her.

 

"That guy was a prick," Alice announced cheerfully as they trekked upstream in the direction Dennet's wife mentioned the wolves coming from.

Sofia looked baffled. "Who? Bron? I thought he had some good ideas, actually; watchtowers can be made with relatively cheap materials and-"

"Dennet," Alice corrected. Water sloshed in her boots, which might have been less irritating if it wasn't freezing cold and seeping through her socks.

"Oh! Well, he's better than most of the nobles I dealt with back home."

"Not really?"

"Really," Varric muttered from behind them. Alice glanced back and snickered at the sight of him with river up to his thighs. "Keep laughing, Dandelion. You're lucky you're tall for an elf."

"Because I'm not halfway to drowning or because you only pick on people your own size?"

"Both."

"Liar," Alice laughed. "You're still trying to con me out of those sovereigns from the pride demon."

"Hey, I won that bet fair and square."

"You didn't even land the killing blow!"

All at once Sofia slammed her hand against Alice's shoulder, knocking her back a few steps. "Shh," she hissed. With a jerk of her chin, she directed Alice to look up ahead and to the right.

Wolves prowled a small clearing on the shore. Alice felt Sofia ready her bow at her side, but something about the scene struck her as being very off. At least four of the creatures were pacing up and down the water's edge. She had spent enough time in the wilderness to know that unless there were predators or prey within sight, there was no reason for them to be this restless. Something was wrong.

"Those wolves aren't acting normal," she whispered. "I'm not sure we should-"

An arrow went soaring past Alice's face, cutting her off. Her suspicions were confirmed when the arrow found its way into the eye of one of the smaller ones and seemed to have no effect on the wolf aside from making it very, very angry.

These were _definitely_ not normal wolves.

Alice and Varric leapt in action, his bolts ripping through wolf legs to give Alice an easier time, and her daggers acting as the one barrier between her and a fearsome amount of fangs. Sofia continued to fire off headshots, but the wolves each seemed to sustain several before succumbing to the pain. Meanwhile attacks were coming at Alice from all directions, forcing her into a frenzied dance to prevent her skin from turning into a pincushion. Never before had she missed Cassandra and Solas so much. Shields and barriers would be a vast improvement to this battle.

Between the arrows from Varric and Sofia and the occasional jab Alice managed to land when she wasn't dodging teeth, they succeeded in wearing the wolves down. Raking a bloody hand through her hair, Alice glared at Sofia. "I was trying to tell you we should be cautious. Thanks to you I nearly died half a dozen times in the last few minutes."

"Well, how was I supposed to know that's what you were going to say?" Sofia snapped. "You're not exactly known to favor caution!"

"Oh, and _how_ many battles have you fought with me? I always favor caution!"

"Arrows," Varric said, trying to get Sofia's attention.

"Then was Cassandra making up the story about you getting demons to chase you while you ran directly toward her sword?"

"Arrows!"

"That was a different situation! Mostly because Cassandra actually knows how to fight!"

" _Sofia_!"

"I have plenty of skill! I've been taking archery lessons since I was a girl; I'm an expert marksman!"

There was a strangled noise of frustration from Varric at Alice's side but she ignored him, her attention still on Sofia. "Oh, well, that's great, you can shoot in a straight line. We're all so proud of you."

"You know what? You are a terrible, self-absorbed, intolerable-"

A screech sounded from entirely too close for Alice to be comfortable with. The two of them turned toward the source of the noise in unison and she cursed aloud.

A lesser terror was exactly what this situation needed.

Varric had already prepared while the two of them had been yelling at each other, so he managed to lodge an arrow into the back of its throat, drawing a pained gurgle from the demon. It rounded on him, sufficiently distracted from its former approach, and Alice took the moment to lunge for the back of the creature's waist. The sudden weight threw it off for a second but it recovered without much effort, reaching to pull her off. Desperate, she stretched her arm above her head, plunged her dagger into the demon's neck, and pulled herself up higher on its body. Its arms flailed wildly in an attempt to remove her, but she held her position on its upper back despite the claws raking against the leather of her armor. She drove her second dagger into the other side of its throat and twisted them both. Varric, having been with her when they killed the first one, caught on and began firing bolts into the softer skin, effectively cutting off its airway entirely. With a giant thrust of the blades, Alice sliced the now-weakened front of the neck and the beast fell, shaking as it went down.

She clambered off it, anger surging through her, and spun toward Sofia. Accusations flew out of her mouth without thought. "Where the fuck were you just now? Were you even helping? Did you think you could just lean back and watch the show?"

"Dandelion," Varric cautioned. "We just almost got killed because you two couldn't stop yelling at each other for five seconds. I'd rather not do that again."

"I don't care! Sofia, what were you _doing_?"

Sofia gave her a petulant expression. "I was helping! I was trying to see what was most effective against it, headshots, or if an arrow through the knee would bring it down, or-"

"None of that is helpful! I was already all the way up to its shoulders, bringing it down would hurt me more than help! And going for the throat was clearly working, why would you not take advantage of that?"

"Because I've never fought before!" Sofia cried. "Like you said the other night, I was a spoiled rich kid growing up and now I'm entirely out of my element here and I don't know what I'm doing! I _know_ I can do this though; the pride demon was my first ever battle and I was the first to shoot an arrow through its eye! You saw how that weakened it!"

Alice froze, rage so sudden and intense she quaked with it. Her mind worked over this new information and when she spoke her voice was low and dangerous. "Are you telling me the reason I almost died was because you decided it was a good idea to distract a demon while it was throwing me into the air?"

Sofia was silent.

"Varric had to get Solas's attention," Alice said, advancing slowly toward Sofia. "So that he could expend a ridiculous amount of energy to make sure I didn't snap my neck on the landing. If either of them had so much as been facing another direction, I would be nothing more than a puddle at that demon's feet and you would all be dead."

"I'm sorry, Alice, I didn't-"

"Shut up!"

Varric shook his head and took a step forward. "Dandelion-"

"Both of you, just be quiet!" she yelled. Her patience with Sofia's complaints and superior attitude had run dry. "You," she said, jabbing a finger at Sofia, "need to stop thinking you're some sort of authority out here. I get it, when we're talking to people or back at Haven, you're a big deal. But here? We're a fucking team. Bloody _act_ like it."

No one spoke. Sofia looked as though she might cry, face blotchy and hands gripping her bow so hard the knuckles were white. After a long moment Varric pointed behind Alice.

"The demon came from that crack in the rocks. Think we should check it out?"

 

The "team" took down the pack of wolves that littered the area with ease, the beasts apparently weakened by the death of the terror. Alice searched the area for plants while the others waited, eager to get moving again. Royal elfroot grew in abundance in the upper reaches of the rock formations, and with some creative climbing and the help of a makeshift bridge, she was able to pick enough to regain some semblance of calm - finding new specimens for the journal always made her feel better - and return to the group.

Marking watchtower locations proved to be a less hazardous task, the greatest threat being the proximity to the fighting between the mages and templars, which was easy to avoid now that they knew the land a little better. Awkward silence rested between them all as they walked, but there were no more thorned words and the redness of Sofia's eyes and cheeks had lessened by their return trip to the horsemaster's.

He was waiting for them as they traipsed up to his doorway. "How'd you fare?"

"The tower locations Bron suggested are marked," Sofia informed him, "and the wolves won't bother you anymore."

"You have my thanks. You're welcome to each take a horse back with you," he said, eyeing Varric as though he couldn't imagine a mount small enough for a dwarf. In all fairness, though, Alice wasn't sure how Varric would be able to reach either. Maybe she would have to lift him.

"We usually ride nugs," Varric quipped, catching on to Dennet's thoughts. "Great war-nugs. Ride 'em right into the heart of battle."

"Right. Well, you can send for the remaining horses as soon as the watchtowers are completed."

"Excuse me?" Sofia demanded. "That's not what you said earlier! You said if the horses arrived to Haven and were fine-"

"And I realized after I said it I'll have no way of knowing for certain! I'm not entrusting the entirety of my stables to you without any way of being sure they'll make it to Haven safely."

Alice threw her hands into the air. "So come with us," she said, frustrated.

"I can't just leave-"

"Sure you can! Back home, if someone offered a horsemaster a job working stables, they took it. You Fereldans can't even figure out how to work your own trades?"

His face hardened. "There are other considerations beyond just 'taking a job'. I would need time to pack my things, and say goodbye to my wife and our children, and I-"

"Take the time, then," Alice interrupted. "But don't force us to travel all the way to Orlais just to find a decent horsemaster."

Dennet glared at her a moment and she held his gaze, trying to keep her expression serious. She failed, the corner of her mouth twitching up, and he burst into startled laughter. "You're trying to play me!" he crowed.

"Well, it almost worked," she said, throwing him a toothy grin.

He shook his head. "A truly poor idea to brag about Orlais to Fereldans. You're lucky I'm nice."

"And we'd be luckier if you actually came with us," she pressed. His surly disposition may have been a little off-putting earlier, but after the day she had just endured, it was a welcome change of pace. Having him along on the return trip might not be so bad.

"Alright, alright," he said. "But only because I don't trust Orlesians with my horses."

He disappeared into his cottage to gather his belongings and Sofia placed a hand on Alice's arm.

"Thank you," she said simply. "I wouldn't have known how to convince him."

"Yeah," Alice said, some of her irritation evaporating. "Well. I said we're a team, I might as well make good on that."

"Maybe I should give you my job."

"You take a blow to the head, Arrows?" Varric asked, feigning concern.

"Oh, shut up, you."

They continued to bicker until the horsemaster rejoined them, and Alice felt the last of her earlier anger dissipate.

"I meant to ask you," Dennet said, his tone casual as he glanced over Alice. "Why is there blood smeared all over your forehead?"

Varric and Sofia both started snickering while Alice stared blankly at Dennet. "What?" she asked.

"Oh, Dandelion," Varric sighed. "Didn't your parents ever teach you not to run your bloodsoaked hands through your hair?"

"What are you on about?"

"Nothing! Don't worry about it."

Dennet merely shook his head and continued walking, the three trailing him, their raucous conversation floating throughout the little farming town, and despite their jabs, something inside Alice settled, quietly and almost imperceptibly, into place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I feel the need to clarify that I actually love Dennet. Alice is just a shit.  
>  Thanks for reading! We'll be returning to Haven next chapter :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So just a heads up - I am rewriting some of Cullen's pre-DA:I background. This is part of my overall divergence from canon and I plan to redo his arc over the course of Castles. No worries for any Cullen fans tho! I'll keep any criticism to myself and I'm not going to change his actual personality (I like him personality-wise), just some of the events of DA2.
> 
> Feel free to let me know your thoughts in the comments! Thank you for reading & I hope you enjoy this chapter :)  
> Now, without further ado:

Reaching Haven again felt, oddly enough, like coming home. For all Sofia's complaints the last time she had been here, this town was without a doubt the absolute best place she had seen in a month.

With the horses, the trip back to Haven had lasted a just shy of a week, which was more than enough time for her and Alice to officially call a truce - and subsequently break it, then call for another, and then break that one too. It was difficult to remember where they stood with one another right now. And, more importantly, it was difficult to remember the last time they had all bathed. Warm water, soap, and relaxation would all have to wait a while longer, however. Horsemaster Dennet had just gotten settled into his new living space and Alice and Varric had disappeared off to the tavern, leaving Sofia to go announce their return by herself - as was her preference after spending so long with only fleeting moments alone.

She kept her pace slow, savoring the chance to think in peace, and smiled at people as she passed them. Maker, this was a breath of fresh air.

Shouting reached her as she made her way to the Chantry and, now familiar with the sounds of a fight breaking out, she quickened her steps until she could see a crowd blocking the Chantry's entrance with two men shouting at each other in the middle of it all.

"Your kind killed the Most Holy," one of them accused.

"Lies," the other fired back, mage robes and staff visible even from where Sofia stood. " _Your_ kind let her die!"

"Shut your mouth, mage!" The first drew his sword and the spectators began to jostle each other out of the way, many people shoving their way through the crowd in their rush to flee the scene. Before the blade could land a hit, Cullen appeared in front of the mage, the sword striking and then bouncing off the armor he wore without leaving so much as a scratch. Sofia fought the urge to curse aloud. A half-second's difference and their Commander would have been leading armies from a cot outside the apothecary's house.

The man with the sword snarled at the sight of Cullen and spat at his feet. " _Knight-Captain_ ," he said, biting the words off as though they left a foul taste in his mouth.

"That is not my title. _We_ ," he emphasized, stepping closer to the man, "are not templars any longer. We are all part of the Inquisition."

"And what does that mean, exactly?" Chancellor Roderick cut a path through the crowd, shooting a defiant glare at Cullen.

"Back already, Chancellor? Haven't you done enough?"

"I'm curious, Commander, as to how your Inquisition and its 'Herald' will restore order as you've promised. It seems you've chosen to throw your lot in with the mages, showing no regard for those of us who are rightfully wary."

"I've chosen the Inquisition, Chancellor. If you listened to anything aside from your own voice you might have noticed," Cullen retorted. Sofia hid a grimace - they had all agreed not to antagonize Roderick more than was necessary. It seemed they had different ideas about what 'necessary' meant. "Back to your duties," Cullen yelled over the din, "all of you!"

The remaining crowd dispersed, reluctance plain in each of their faces. Even Chancellor Roderick disappeared to wreak havoc elsewhere. Cullen turned to the mage, frustrated, and hissed, "If a templar comes at you with a sword, you _run_."

"Probably good advice," Sofia said, approaching the two of them.

The mage shook his head. "I can handle myself. I can cast barriers, and I am growing weary of the accusations brought against mages. Do the lot of you imagine we have secret meetings every few days to discuss the most effective ways to bring about the end of the world? It doesn't matter if it was a mage who created the Breach and killed the Most Holy! It's not as though I knew them personally!"

"I know that," Cullen assured him, "but putting yourself and all your fellows in danger won't convince the people who don't."

"Bah!" the man said, turning on his heel and storming off.

Sofia watched him leave before meeting Cullen's eyes. "That templar," she started, "or former-templar, I suppose. He _spat_ at you and said your former title like an insult. We heard of the mages' attack on Kirkwall all the way in Tantervale. I would think someone like him would have nothing but the utmost respect for someone involved in stopping it."

"Ha!" Cullen barked. "That is precisely why he _doesn't_ have respect for me. I left the Order before the… attack, as you called it, though I hardly feel the phrase is an accurate one."

"No? Perhaps I've been misinformed, then."

He searched her face for a moment before answering. "Perhaps. By the time Meredith called for the annulment, the mages had been subjected to abuse of all manner for years - between her influence and the Champion's, there weren't many people left who sympathized with the mages. Certainly no one with any semblance of power."

"I've heard Kirkwall has remained war-torn."

"Most places are, now; that's hardly unique to Kirkwall. But you're right - the situation there is not good, especially not under Viscount Hawke's rule. I consider myself lucky to have gotten out alive."

"Why did you leave?"

"Do you mean Kirkwall or the Order?"

"I assume you left Kirkwall out of necessity."

Cullen looked uncomfortable. "I left the Order out of necessity too, in a manner of speaking. When I was first transferred to the Free Marches, I had just… I… wasn't overly fond of mages. But as time went on, watching what the others did to them…"

"What _did_ the others do to them?" Sofia asked. It was no secret that mages had little freedom, that their lives were not truly their own to do with as they pleased, but Cullen's stilted speech and clear unease hinted at abuses beyond the mere nature of the Circle.

"I would prefer not to speak of it at present. Later, certainly, but…"

"It's fine," Sofia assured him. "You don't need to explain right now."

"Suffice it to say, what they were doing was wrong," Cullen said with sudden, fierce disgust. "What _I_ was doing was wrong. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I'd stayed so I left to try and fix it. Sometimes I wonder if I wouldn't have accomplished more if I had just stayed in Kirkwall, fought against the Champion… As it is, I've been able to change precious little."

"I'm sure that isn't-"

"It is," he interrupted. "I'm not interested in patting myself on the back for work I haven't done. Don't you go doing it either."

Sofia was taken aback. Most of her experience with people had been limited to irate nobility - she was used to passive-aggressive remarks, thinly veiled insults, threats to go above her head and ruin her career. Bluntness was foreign to her, and not entirely appreciated. "I… Noted, Commander. I won't."

"Thank you," he said, his relief almost palpable. "Now, with talk of Kirkwall out of the way, I suppose your return means we should head to the war room, doesn't it?"

 

The debriefing went by faster than Sofia had expected, with the general consensus being that it was time to use the names Mother Giselle had given Leliana and travel to the capital. Josephine had proposed bringing Alice, much to Sofia's dismay - Val Royeaux was a significantly longer journey than the one to Redcliffe's outskirts. Thankfully, once Sofia managed to locate Alice in the crowded tavern, the girl had agreed right away, making excited comments about enchanters and bombs that Sofia hadn't been able to understand over the noise and simply hoped weren't as concerning as they sounded.

With that out of the way, though, she was free to do whatever she pleased for the rest of the day, including bathing and sleeping and being, at long last, alone.

Which was why it seemed strange to her that she found herself outside Josephine's office, hand poised ready to knock.

Maker, why hadn't she at least taken a bath first?

The door swung open, startling Sofia, and an Orlesian man with a sheepish expression hiding behind his mask stepped out.

"Excuse me," he muttered, side-stepping around her and leaving her face-to-face with an irritated Josephine.

"Is this a good time?" Sofia asked, a little timid. She had never seen Josephine irritated before. Exasperated, anxious, overwhelmed, sure. Just not irritated.

"It rarely is," Josephine said, waving her in despite the comment. "What can I do for you, Sofia?"

"I was hoping to commiserate, if you have the time. Would you, ah… like to start?"

"We are directly underneath a giant green hole in the sky and Marquis DuRellion is worried about land claims!"

Sofia took that as a yes. "I take it your meeting didn't go well?"

"Oh no, it went splendidly," Josephine rushed to assure her. "It was a bluff on his part. Despite their Ferelden relations, the DuRellions are Orlesian. If the marquis wishes to claim Haven, Empress Celene must negotiate with Ferelden on his behalf. Her current concerns are a bit larger than minor property disputes."

"So you're mad about…?"

"The principle of it! There are people all over Thedas suffering due to these rifts, and yet nobles continue to try to profit off of them!"

"Yes, but you stopped one of them from doing so," Sofia reminded her. "It seems like this would be a celebratory occasion."

Josephine gave her a weak smile. "Perhaps I felt that way this morning, but Marquis DuRellion was the third of his kind today alone."

"Oh," Sofia said. "Well… at least you've gotten through them?"

"Yes, but even should they leave, they will share their thoughts on us upon their return home. Every guest we receive – and we will receive them – will spread the Inquisition’s story. An ambassador should ensure the tale is as complimentary as possible."

"Surely you don't worry about that? I've never met anyone with such a knack for dealing with people. You've settled probably a thousand disputes between Leliana and Cullen by now."

"That would not surprise me," Josephine muttered, marking something down on her clipboard. Sofia could only hope the gesture didn't mean the two were _scheduling_ their arguments now. "But it is not all settling disputes, there is also the matter of getting people to like you enough to even bother listening to your suggestions in the first place, and-"

"Why would that be any trouble for you?" Sofia blurted out, her cheeks going hot the second the words were out of her mouth. How much could she manage to embarrass herself in front of this one woman? Why did she not know when to keep her mouth shut?

Josephine didn't seemed fazed by Sofia's outburst, thank the Maker, her quill continuing to fly across the parchment in front of her. "Thank you, Sofia, but you might be surprised. Not many nobles take kindly to me reminding them their claims are little more than bluster."

"I see your point there," Sofia conceded. "All the same, you're _good_ with people."

"It is easy to forget sometimes."

"You remembered I dislike public speaking from nothing more than a passing comment I made to Cullen," Sofia said, raising a brow.

At that, Josephine paused in her writing, a soft, dark pink spreading across the tops of her cheeks and traveling the bridge of her nose. Her eyes met Sofia's and she looked momentarily surprised before collecting herself and clearing her throat. "You noted yourself that a dislike of public speaking is a rather unusual trait for an ambassador of any nature. Which reminds me, if you'll forgive my asking, I've been wondering how you came to be in politics."

"Nothing to forgive; you're fine. I was… very passionate about change in my youth and my mother thought it would be a fitting profession, so she steered me toward it and I never thought to do anything else."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Some aspects," Sofia said, thinking back to the more victorious moments of her career, "but mostly it just felt… hopeless. Like things would never change, despite my efforts. Like I could pour my heart and soul, my entire life, into an idea and it might still never bear fruit."

Writing abandoned, Josephine studied her with curious eyes. Rarely had Sofia spoken so freely about the misgivings she had with politics, but with her position as seneschal forfeit and the question posed so openly, she saw no reason to lie. All the same, something about having Josephine regard her as though Sofia were a book she might read, provided the first few pages caught her interest, was… disconcerting. Not in an entirely unpleasant way, but she found herself eager to change the subject all the same.

"But anyway," Sofia said, "it seems being a field ambassador is already more productive, so at least I'm moving in the right direction."

Josephine smiled, her eyes crinkling at the edges in a way Sofia tried very hard not to notice. "I'm glad you're enjoying your work so far," she said with more sincerity than the statement truly warranted. Although Sofia could never tell with Josephine… everything sounded as though she truly meant it, even things Sofia knew for certain to be otherwise.

"'Enjoying' is a strong word," Sofia joked, returning the grin. "One that would probably feel more accurate if not for an openly defiant Herald following me from place to place."

Josephine somehow managed to look scandalized and delighted at the same time. "Surely she is not so bad as all that!"

"She's _worse_ , Josephine! She criticized everything, picked arguments, kept me up all night, but worse than any of the rest of it, she was openly rude to both Mother Giselle and the horsemaster. Granted, Dennet didn't agree to come until she needled him about it, but the girl is a menace."

"Perhaps we shouldn't send her to Val Royeaux," Josephine said, eyes wide.

"No, despite my reservations about ever having her within earshot of Chantry officials, I think you and Mother Giselle were right to suggest bringing her. They need to see she's only a kid, not some demon or political mastermind."

"Have you dismissed Leliana's concerns about her, then?"

"I'm not sure. Whatever she was up to when she stumbled upon Most Holy's torture certainly wasn't good. But I've traveled with her now, and as combative as she is, I can't picture her having anything to do with the Breach."

"Leliana doesn't believe that either," Josephine told her. "She had been getting reports of a possible contract against the Divine for months. It would not be far-fetched to imagine Miss Glaisyer as that assassin."

"And what, she just happened to show up the same time the Breach was being created? It seems unlikely."

Josephine shook her head. "It seems like good planning on the part of two different assassins. Divine Justinia was ill-guarded; it was a perfect opportunity to strike."

Doubt wormed its way into Sofia's thoughts and she shook her head in an effort to dislodge it. "Well, I guess I should go get ready for tomorrow," she said, suddenly very tired.

"Oh! Did I offend you? I didn't mean-"

"No, no, Josephine, you're fine," Sofia smiled at her, trying to sound comforting. "I just… have to travel with Alice, and it's in my best interest to trust her for the time being."

"Of course. I understand," Josephine said, though her anxious expression didn't fade. "Would you prefer if Leliana and I kept our concerns to ourselves?"

"No, don't worry about it. With any luck we won't need her as much after Val Royeaux and I can be suspicious of her in peace."

Josephine gave a soft, melodic laugh and got up to walk Sofia to the door. They stood there for a moment, eye level with one another, until Sofia abruptly remembered her lack of bathing and cleared her throat. "Thank you," she said, "for allowing me to commiserate with you. I needed a break from the rest of it."

Josephine smiled. "Of course, Sofia. You're welcome here any time. Oh! And good luck on your trip to the capital!"

"Thank you, I'm sure I'll need it," Sofia quipped, turning just in time to witness a short balding man barreling toward her. When he arrived at her side he paused to regain some of his breath before speaking.

"Lady Trevelyan, the Herald has caused a small explosion in the tavern and there is a table on fire… Master Tethras suggested we find you…"

"Did he now?" Sofia sighed. "Very well. Please, sir, sit down. I'll take care of the matter, there's no need to worry."

Josephine stared at Sofia with wide eyes before suddenly and quite unforgivably breaking out into a toothy grin. "Have fun," she called as Sofia marched off.

 _Maker_ , Sofia thought as she tried to decide how best to punish Alice for whatever stunt had caused this latest disaster, _the whole of Thedas is counting on me and I can't even find time to scrub the dirt off my face between crises_.

Funny, then, that she couldn't seem to stop herself from smiling.


	9. Chapter 9

_Everything_ in Val Royeaux felt vibrant.

The streets echoed with song and the Chant, despite the Chantry hierarchy's state of disarray, and everywhere Sofia looked vivid colors burst into her sight like roses into bloom. People of all backgrounds talked and laughed and some danced, right there in the streets, their feet moving in slow and quick patterns alike. Shops and restaurants took up every available building, many boasting such exorbitant prices that Sofia felt almost scandalized by them, noble background and all. Even with her best efforts, she found herself incapable of focusing on any one detail for more than a second or two before her attention was called elsewhere, becoming lost in a frenzied sea of movement.

Never in her life had she been somewhere so _alive_.

Alice kept trying to duck and weave past the crowd and into the stores, Cassandra periodically yanking her back into place. Neither of them seemed the least bit phased by the cacophonous whirlwind surrounding their path.

In their defense - or, rather, in Cassandra's defense; nothing Alice was doing had any reasonable explanation - the scout who had greeted them upon their arrival had nothing but bad news. Sofia could see from the hard line of Cassandra's mouth that the woman was focused on the task at hand and any dazzling wonders would have to wait until after the templars and Chantry officials had been dealt with. All the same, it was taking everything in Sofia's power not to push her way past everyone to the food stalls. There was one with baked goods in the shape of nugs, and another with the ripest-looking fruit she had ever seen.

Cassandra's hand wrapped around her upper arm without warning and jerked Sofia back before a horse and carriage nearly ran her over. "I know this is your first time here," Cassandra said, "but try not to get killed the second I look elsewhere."

"I'm so sorry, Cassandra, thank you for-"

Cassandra shook her head and gestured in the direction they had been headed. A crowd had gathered around a podium, listening to a Chantry sister give an impassioned speech. It looked as though the scout was correct - their attempt at an agreeable gathering had backfired.

"Our plans have changed. We will need to sway both the Chantry officials and the crowd," she told Sofia, who was no longer distracted by the commotion around her but was incredibly amused by the fact that Cassandra had been forced to twine her fingers with Alice's just to prevent the girl from running off. Both looked markedly displeased with the arrangement.

Sofia nodded, adopting a grim expression in the hopes of hiding her laughter over Alice's shenanigans. Better not to aggravate Cassandra any more than necessary.

"Let's go, then," she said, "before I find my way into the path of another horse."

 

It turned out that Val Royeaux lost its charm rather quickly. The meeting with the Chantry officials had gone worse than anyone on either side could have anticipated - templars had arrived partway through their dealings, led by Lord Seeker Lucius, and disrupted the entire dialogue Sofia had fought to get going. One of them went so far as to punch a Chantry sister and knock her out, to which Alice had responded in a very uncharacteristic fashion that she now refused to explain, tearing through the crowd to reach the woman's side and administer aid. Despite the ugly display, however, the Inquisition had not been completely dismissed by the capital's public. Some of them seemed deeply moved by Alice's bizarre goodwill toward the sister and had signed on to become agents, promising resources and information whenever they were available.

But as happy as Sofia was to have recruited new allies, however small, she found herself brooding over the Lord Seeker's strange demeanor. She knew the man through reputation alone but nothing said about him matched up with the man she had met today. Cassandra seemed just as baffled, which only served to add to Sofia's concern over the events. While she had originally planned to argue in favor of brokering an alliance with the mages, something told her that the templars needed to be investigated before they attempted anything else. On their quiet journey back to the inn she considered how best to broach the topic with Cassandra, almost certain they would be in agreement but wanting to remain respectful of Cassandra's former position within the ranks of the Seekers. The entire situation had put Sofia's noticeably off her game.

Any hopes of conferring immediately upon their arrival were dashed when a messenger managed to chase them down to pass along an elegant, formal-looking note. Closer examination revealed that the Inquisition had been invited to attend a gala hosted by a First Enchanter Vivienne, a name no one among them recognized, though that wasn't unusual considering none of them were Orlesian nobility.

Alice was still on thin ice as far as diplomatic missions were concerned - even if her performance in the Val Royeaux square had earned them unexpected support, taking her to a fancy event would almost certainly end in disaster and possibly a bill for damages to the estate. In an effort to keep appearances at least somewhat professional, the group decided that Cassandra and Alice would remain at the inn while Sofia attended the party alone.

Although first she would need to shop for a mask.

"Buy one covered in nug feet," Alice suggested. "They're all the rage among the nobles."

"I doubt that very much," Sofia said, changing into the pale blue dress robes she had - thankfully - thought to bring with her. They made her look a bit like a mage, but there had been a few people out on the streets in similar garb, so it didn't seem too scandalous a choice. "Besides, I don't even know what nug feet look like. I've never been close to one."

Alice stretched her palms out to Sofia, fingers spread wide. "Little hands," she said in complete earnestness. "With wrinkles."

"...I think I'm going to pass."

"Suit yourself, but if they decide you're unfashionable you'll be sentenced to death by beheading."

"Don't listen to her," Cassandra said, rubbing her temples. "Just purchase something like you see other women wearing. That is a safer bet."

"That was the plan, don't worry," Sofia assured her. "If all else fails, I'll ask the shopkeep." She adjusted her robes and held her arms out. "How do I look?"

"Suitable."

"Like nug feet would bring out your eyes."

"Wonderful," Sofia said, ignoring the both of them. "Now, will the two of you be alright alone?"

"Do not worry," Cassandra said, "Alice and I will be fine. Drunk, perhaps, but fine."

Sofia gave her a wide grin, grateful for Cassandra's willingness to play babysitter, and took her leave.

 

In the end, Sofia opted for a mask of deep blue, with a simple but elegant design and the slightest hint of a shimmer around the eyes when she moved. The color played off her robes well and the overall look was one that was both understated and befitting of her station. There was also the fact that it was affordable, a concern she had never paid much mind to before leaving her post as seneschal but that seemed to grow more important with every passing day.

All in all, she felt completely prepared, even as she stepped through the doors and heard her name ring out in announcement to everyone in attendance.

"Lady Trevelyan, of Tantervale, representing the Inquisition!"

Faces turned toward her at the introduction, more people than she cared to think about gauging her worth based on little more than her outfit, posture, and name. Too many turned away in disdain - it was clear the Inquisition had a lot to prove here. There were still curious eyes trained on her, though, so she would need to make use of them as best she could.

She weaved her way through the crowd, trying to determine who to approach. Parties were her true battlefield, where she could suss out her opponents' strengths and weaknesses in mere seconds and adjust accordingly. There was no fumbling here, no guesswork.

She passed a man with thinning hair in a mask that looked more like armor than an accessory, a young woman in forest green leaning over to whisper in the ear of a man whose hand was sliding down her backside, an elderly woman standing taller than most of the youth Sofia knew, but no one felt right. They were all too caught in their own private worlds, with concerns unrelated to the Inquisition. What Sofia needed was someone whose curiosity was not momentary, but genuine.

An intricate mask caught her attention, fine golden details curling up and into the equally golden hair of the wearer, tangling it in a way that was somehow both artful and disheveled. Gentle, swirling lines curved along the fabric of his doublet and from what Sofia could tell he was a man of her own age, and one of significant station to afford the luxurious attire he wore - even among all the nobility in attendance he stood out. None of that truly mattered, though - what was important was that his gaze was fixed on Sofia as she glided through the room. And not in the lecherous way that seemed all too common among noblemen.

When she caught his eye he broke out into a smile, one that appeared every bit sincere and one that Sofia did not trust for a heartbeat. Something about this man seemed out-of-place. He was too calculated, or rather, too unconcerned with concealing that calculation.

"Lady Trevelyan, is it?" he asked as she neared, plucking a glass of wine from a nearby refreshment table and offering it to her. "A pleasure to meet you. I hear the Inquisition is doing well for itself."

The easy tone unsettled Sofia further, especially since his words contradicted their reception from the rest of the city. "It has being doing well," she hedged, "but not for itself."

"Of course, my mistake. For Thedas and everyone in it." A mocking undercurrent ran through his voice.

"Yes, that is the plan. And, my apologies, I didn't catch your name."

A small quirk of his lips appeared in a flash and vanished just as quick. "Mm, small wonder. I did not give it to you."

"What might I call you, then?"

"An interested party," he said, sliding his hand along the underside of the refreshment table and producing a small note. He smiled as he turned it over in his hands. "It is truly fortunate that you chose to attend tonight's events; I'm quite certain this message would not have reached you in time otherwise." He pressed it into her hand discreetly. "Our hosts tonight might have you believe some rather… unflattering things about people who can help you. Read the note when you are gone from here, and think on it."

Sofia was silent a long moment, weighing her responses. The smart route would be to make no promises or comments and take her leave. But the foolish route was infinitely more appealing at the moment.

"You know we can find out who you are rather easily," Sofia said, "from little more than a description of your outfit tonight."

"Yes, I've heard the Nightingale is quite proficient," he remarked. Heat filled Sofia's cheeks at the unexpected mention of Leliana. He beamed. "Oh, don't blush like that; your mask is not near large enough to conceal it. Of course I know your spymaster, do you think me a beginner at the Game? Allow me to prove to you it is not so: you are Sofia Trevelyan, of Tantervale, with three brothers and a sister. Your mother is ill, though not seriously. Possibly you didn't even know… and judging by what I can make of your expression, I'm correct in that. Spent most of your childhood locked away in libraries and private tutoring sessions, but the winner of several small and unimportant competitions in marksmanship, including one in Starkhaven that also involved some of the royal children. Your favorite dance is the Nevarran waltz, your favorite season is spring, and your favorite color is blue," he rattled off. Casting an amused glance over her wardrobe, he seemed to decide he couldn't resist throwing in a jest. "Despite all appearances to the contrary."

If he was trying to startle her, he would need to try harder than that, Sofia thought. Tantervale was located close enough to Northern Orlais that many of its inhabitants spent time learning to play the Game since they were children. And someone with a political background such as hers was bound to wind up better known than most; nothing the man said was anything half the Free Marches couldn't easily find out. Besides, he had revealed much more to her than she had to him - she now knew he was over-eager to demonstrate his proficiency at the Game. An easily exploitable trait. Perhaps she would follow through on her threat to tell Leliana of him.

She hid her bemusement behind a bowed head and smiled as she looked back up at him once more. "It was a pleasure to meet you," she told him, electing to ignore his remarks entirely. "Unfortunately the Inquisition has business with-"

"The Inquisition!" A voice rang out over the crowd and Sofia spun to see the source of it: a small man, standing Sofia's height or possibly even shorter, stood a few feet from her with a disdainful set to his mouth. "What a load of pig shit!" he continued. "Washed up sisters and crazed Seekers… No one can take them seriously. Everyone knows it's just an excuse for a bunch of political outcasts to grab power!"

Sofia arched a brow. "If that were the case I might not have left my station as seneschal back in Tantervale. We are trying to restore peace to Thedas."

Her words earned her a scoff from the man. "Here comes the outsider, restoring peace with an army!"

"And here comes the marquis," the man at Sofia's side commented jovially, "bringing great comedy to a party through sour words. It is not so hard to be contradictory, is it, my friend?"

The marquis stiffened at the words, shooting a glare at him. "Your Grace, we both know what the Inquisition truly is," he appealed before resuming his attacks on Sofia. "And if _you_ were a woman of honor, you'd step outside and answer the charges."

An expectant hush fell over the room, nobles and servants alike pausing to watch the spectacle. Far from outmaneuvered, however, Sofia merely smiled at the marquis and opened her mouth to counter.

And ice formed in rapid, crackling movement across his skin before she could get so much as a word out.

"My dear Marquis," came a languid voice from the second floor balcony. Sofia searched for the source, finding it in the most distinguished woman she had ever seen - there were none of the frills or garish trends Sofia had come to expect of Orlesians adorning this woman, nor any particular flash to her, and yet she moved with the deliberate laziness of someone who knows she has her audience so enthralled she can afford to take her time. Even Sofia found herself unable to tear her eyes away. "How unkind of you to use such language in my house… to my guests," she continued, making her way down the stairs. "You know such rudeness is intolerable."

"Madame Vivienne," he gasped, "I humbly beg your pardon!"

"You _should_. Whatever am I going to do with you, my dear?" she reached the bottom of the stairs and arrived at the marquis's side, directing her attention to Sofia. "My lady, you're the wounded party in this unfortunate affair. What would you have me do with this foolish, _foolish_ man?"

Her answer would be a gamble, Sofia knew, a test to see if the Inquisition was hardened enough to order a man killed for having the audacity to question, or if it was benevolent enough to spare him even as he derided their name - each option would bring backlash, to be certain; kill him and the Inquisition looked the harsh totalitarian, but spare him and they looked a fool for allowing a potential enemy to walk away unscathed. At any rate, Sofia knew that the Inquisition was too new to act so decisively.

But if there was one thing that shy, nervous Sofia had learned about handling lose-lose situations, it was that if each choice was equally bad, it never hurt to find a way out of deciding it.

"Madame Vivienne," she said, echoing the marquis's greeting. "As you said, this is your house; the marquis is your guest - this call should rightfully belong to you as well. I defer to your judgment."

Vivienne took no more than a second to process, her expression one of silent approval. With a flourish, she turned back to the marquis, snapped her fingers, and freed him from the ice. "Poor Marquis, issuing challenges and hurling insults like some Fereldan doglord. And all dressed up in your aunt Solange's doublet. Didn't she give you that to wear to the Grand Tourney? To think, all the brave chevaliers who will be competing left for Markham this morning… and you're still here," she said, provoking him into a furious and embarrassed sweat. Undeterred, she pressed on. "Were you hoping to sate your damaged pride by defeating a representative of the Inquisition in a public duel? Or did you think her arrows could put an end to the misery of your failure? Run along, my dear… Do give my regards to your aunt." The marquis dipped his head and did as he was told. Vivienne turned to Sofia with a warm smile on her face and said, "I'm delighted you could attend this little gathering; I've so wanted to meet you. Please, dear, follow me so we might speak privately."

They walked together in relative silence, exchanging the usual pleasantries and introductions but saving true conversation for when they could be certain no one would overhear. The man from the refreshment table had given Vivienne a bitter look as they wandered away, but Sofia would have to contend with that element of the party later. She was here on business, not to play the spy and delight in her own small ruses as the man had done with such enthusiasm.

"How did you know I favor archery, Madame Vivienne?" Sofia asked as they neared a secluded window overlooking the garden. As with the man, Vivienne's knowledge of her had not come as any particular shock. She was simply curious how the woman would answer.

"Word travels, dear," she said, her tone almost scolding, "as I'm sure you know well after spending your whole adult life in politics. Do not take me for a fool."

Sofia smiled and shook her head. "A fool? No, you've given me no reason to believe that. If anything you've given me evidence to the contrary."

"Then you are wondering after something else? My honesty, perhaps? If you must know, I, like any serious player of the Game, employ those who keep me informed and prepared. Especially when it comes to ambassadors of foreign powers with whom I hope to align myself. I'm quite certain none of this is surprising to you in the least. Does that answer your question, my dear?"

"It answers a few, yes," Sofia responded with a smile. Her answer was not untrue; she had learned much from those few sentences. For example, she now knew Vivienne was a direct, quick-witted woman who expected those around her to keep up with her pace. Whether her internal thought processes were as plain as her words remained to be seen, but Sofia doubted the woman was as transparent as all that. It didn't matter anyway - all that she needed to find out was whether Vivienne could be trusted, now that she knew her intention was to ally with the Inquisition.

"Wonderful. Now if we are quite done testing me, I did not invite you to the Chateau to exchange simple pleasantries. With Divine Justinia dead, the Chantry is in shambles; only the Inquisition might restore sanity and order to our frightened people. As the leader of the last loyal mages of Thedas, I feel it only right that I lend my assistance to your cause."

Sofia had heard of the Loyalist Mages. They were a group she couldn't manage to wrap her head around, but they had successfully remained neutral in a time where neutrality was a difficult position. Learning that this poised and quietly dangerous woman led them gave a sudden explanation for their competence. "I'm impressed with your leadership, Madame Vivienne," she admitted. Varric's words about mages came back to her in a flash and she considered her next words with care before speaking them. "I won't presume to know what approach is best for the mages, though my political track record - which I'm sure you're familiar with - would have you believe otherwise. I have… only recently realized that uneducated efforts were capable of more harm than help. Your organization has kept clean of the fighting, and that speaks well of both your ability to command and your caution. I'm very interested to learn more; I simply wish to be more certain of your intentions as far as the Inquisition."

Vivienne regarded her coolly, as though she were measuring each word for sincerity. Despite the discomfort Sofia felt under her scrutiny, she found she enjoyed Vivienne's company - once the theatrics of the party were removed the woman did not bother to indulge any predetermined expectations Sofia might have had. Among politicians, the forthrightness of her words and expressions was a refreshing surprise.

Finally, Vivienne spoke. "The Loyalists have no intentions regarding the Inquisition. We are not looking for a political ally, if that is your concern. Personally, however, I seek the same thing anyone gets by fighting this chaos: the chance to meet my enemy, to decide my fate. I won't wait quietly for destruction."

"And what can you alone do for the Inquisition?"

"I am well versed in the politics of the Orlesian empire, I know every member of the imperial court personally, I have all the resources remaining to the Circle at my disposal… and I'm a mage of no small talent. Will that do?"

Sofia grinned. "Quite nicely, I should think; welcome to the Inquisition. I apologize for the barrage of questions, but the other members of the Inquisition would be less than pleased with me if I didn't ask them."

"Understood, my dear," Vivienne said, the wary look in her eyes fading somewhat. "Speaking of the other members, I had heard you traveled with a Seeker and the Herald. Were they unable to attend the festivities tonight?"

"They are merely exhausted. We have limited mounts for travel at the moment, and we've come a long way. After the scene in Val Royeaux, they wished to retire for the evening."

"Oh? Where are you staying?"

"The Red Lion Inn."

Vivienne wrinkled her nose in disgust. "That inn is a disgrace," she exclaimed. "We can't have you staying there; people will get the notion that the Inquisition is as shabby as the inn itself. You simply must retrieve the others and spend the night here. We have ample room for guests and the party will not stretch much longer."

"Thank you, Madame Vivienne, I greatly appreciate your generosity. I will go get them now, if there's nothing else?"

Vivienne gave her another warm smile and shook her head. "We can speak further on the return trip. Great things are beginning, my dear, I can promise you that."

Sofia returned the smile and took her leave, mind so focused on the task at hand that she completely forgot the man from earlier and his note, which remained safely tucked away in the pocket of her robe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed reading Vivienne as much as I enjoyed writing her!
> 
> It does look like I may need to start posting every other week instead of every week; midterms are fast approaching and I have several court analyses, a research paper, an updated stock investment plan, and a number of readings due within the next week alone.... I am a little swamped.
> 
> I'm most of the way done with chapter 10, so that one should be out next Friday, but the next few chapters after that may have some delays!  
> Thank you for reading and for being patient as I try to juggle my courses with my writing :)


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